


Santa Sarita: The Lost Sermons

by HIMluv



Series: Santa Sarita: Patron Saint of a Third Rate Smuggler [5]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 29,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HIMluv/pseuds/HIMluv
Summary: A collection of drabbles, oneshots, and tumblr prompts involving Reyes and Sara.





	1. Don't Want to Go Home

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a place to organize all the tumblr prompts and oneshots that I've written for the series, including #reyesvidalweek prompts. I will do my best to post them in plot order, but as I write them, this may not be realistic. *shrugs* I'll figure it out when we get there!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a prompt fill for flight_feather, who prompted the Reyes community with "I don't want to go home: a time when Reyes didn't want to return to home or duty."
> 
> Enjoy some backstory! Hope y'all like it!

Reyes sat at the bar ignoring the curious glances the woman across from him kept throwing his way. She was pretty enough, in an unassuming way; casual wear, medium length dark blond hair, no makeup, with full lips that hinted at cleverness as they quirked up on one side when she overheard something that amused her. But, he wasn’t in the mood for some random encounter tonight. In fact, he wasn’t in the mood to socialize at all; he just wanted to sip his whiskey in peace and try to ignore how heavy his Alliance dog tags felt underneath his navy blues.   
  
“What’s up with you, Vidal?” The bartender asked. The man, a nosy, if well-intentioned Irishman, had come to view Reyes as one of his regulars. Reyes wanted to hate it, knew he should hate how much he’d been drinking lately, but he couldn’t seem to find the feeling. Usually he knew that didn’t mean he was turning into his father, but tonight he couldn’t escape the thought that maybe he was no better than his old man after all.  
  
He cleared his throat after a long pull on his whiskey. “I signed my discharge papers today,” he told the bartender.  
  
The man paused, his towel-draped hand deep inside a glass mug. “Shit,” he said under his breath, and then a little louder. “Your idea, or theirs?”  
  
Reyes scowled at him. “Please, Kian,” he admonished. “Mine.”  
  
The bartender chuckled as he resumed his washing. It was a quiet night, late on a weekday, so the bar was nearly empty. Just Reyes, the woman with the clever mouth, and a couple stragglers in various booths.  
  
“So, if it was your idea,” Kian continued. “Why doesn’t it seem like you’re celebrating?”  
  
“You’re not my fucking psychologist, Dagher,” Reyes said, though his words lacked any real heat.   
  
“I’m a bartender. I’m everyone’s psychologist. Plus,” he continued. “You sat at the bar, not a booth.” He tilted his head to the side. “Tells me you don’t really want to be alone.”  
  
“Christ, deliver me from nosy bartenders,” Reyes grumbled, and then took another swig from his glass.   
  
Kian was about to respond when movement across the bar caught both their attentions. The blond had leaned forward a little, trying to get the bartender to look at her. He moved off without a word to help her, and Reyes returned his focus to his whiskey. He was surprised when, a moment later, the woman downed the last of her beer, slid off her stool, and left the bar. Kian returned with a fresh whiskey for Reyes.   
  
“What’s this?” He asked. His current glass wasn’t quite finished.   
  
“Courtesy of the blond,” Kian said. “She said to tell you, ‘thank you for your service’.”  
  
He eyed the drink warily. “And then she left?” He’d had plenty of drinks bought for him over the years, but the interested party usually hung around to see what their generosity might reward them with.  
  
Kian shrugged. “She’s a regular,” he offered. “Comes in three or four times a month, sits at the bar, usually reading something on her omnitool or working on a datapad. Has a beer or two and then leaves.”  
  
“She ever do something like this before?” He asked, finishing his first whiskey.  
  
He shook his head. “No, but I’ve never had a military man looking so goddamn miserable in here before either.”  
  
Reyes chuckled, shaking his head. “Fuck you, Dagher.”  
  
Kian laughed, swept up Reyes’ now empty glass, and then spun to help a couple as they approached the bar. Reyes glanced at the whiskey the blond had paid for. Kian had poured it, he knew it was safe to drink, he just wasn’t used to such chivalrous actions in his honor. He wasn’t sure he deserved it. But, he was never one to let good whiskey go to waste, and Kian knew his stuff.   
  
“So,” the bartender started as he fell back into his cleaning routine. “What’re you going to do now?”  
  
And there was the problem. For once in his life, Reyes Vidal didn’t have a plan. He’d been with the Alliance since he was sixteen, since he’d ran away from the Suns on Elysium. The military had been his whole adult life, with its rules and order, and now he was suddenly aimless.   
  
He shrugged. “I haven’t really figured it out yet,” he admitted. He took a sip of his whiskey, and hissed with surprise. This glass was higher quality than the last one; she’d paid well to thank him. “I’d consider running my own business, if I could get my hands on a shuttle.”  
  
“You’re a pilot?”  
  
“Yeah,” he said. He left out the bit where he was actually one of the Alliance’s best pilots, or the part where his CO had tried to convince him to stay. He wasn’t just a pilot, and that was the whole problem.  
  
“You any good at repairing them?”  
  
Reyes laughed and nodded. “You could say that.”  
  
“I know someone with a junker he’s looking to sell. I could talk to him, if you’re interested.”   
  
Something in Kian’s glance told Reyes that this transaction might not be entirely on the up-and-up, but he shrugged anyway. As long as the shuttle was scrubbed clean, and the trouble wouldn’t fall back on him, he didn’t care where the thing came from.  
  
“Oh, I’m interested,” he said, and knocked back the last of the free whiskey feeling hopeful for the first time that day. His life was his own now, truly, for the first time in ten years. That freedom could be overwhelming, but it was full of potential in a way he’d never known before. Maybe now he could finally do something meaningful to him.  
  
Maybe now he could finally step out from under his father’s shadow and actually be someone.


	2. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was for ReyesVidalWeek day 1: Sweet Hello, Sad Goodbye

Jien Garson could throw a party, Reyes would give her that. Thousands of pioneers had filled the auditorium to hear her speech, and now every bar within ten miles was stuffed with those celebrating just how alive they were before they all bunkered down into cryostasis the next morning.  
  
During the Andromeda Initiative founder’s speech every single one of them had been moved by her candor and unshakable faith in what they were doing. Even Reyes had to admit that the woman gave him high hopes for what his future could be in the Heleus Cluster. Jien Garson offered him the chance to be someone else, to be someone that had left a tragic youth behind him, shrugged out from under the cloak of mediocrity he’d worn for so long, and actually applied himself to something greater.  
  
His blood pounded in his veins in time with the relentless beat of the music, and his chest was warm with more than just the burn of the expensive whiskey he was drinking. Reyes leaned back against the bar, languishing in the euphoric feeling that was the product of too much whiskey and newfound hope. He knocked back his drink, finishing it with a hiss. The booze didn’t burn as much as it should, a tell-tale sign that he’d had enough for one night.  
  
He gestured for a refill, and the bartender didn’t hesitate to pour more whiskey into the glass. A celebration like this may not happen again his lifetime; he could afford to let himself enjoy it.  
  
The bar was packed. Not only were hordes of Initiative pioneers present, but it was also New Year’s Eve and the party was in full swing. He let his eyes wander over the dance floor, enjoying the view of writhing bodies. Every species was represented in the pulsing throng. Young, old, inexperienced, it didn’t matter. Tonight’s party was an expression of pure joy, the thrill of a job well done. They deserved it.  
  
Hell, he deserved it.  
  
He watched them move, and smiled. Reyes loved dancing, but he rarely indulged in the activity. Though, nothing else had quite the same allure for him. When he joined a crowded dance floor, he was no one, a shadow. A nameless face in the crowd until his hands found the hips of some stranger, and the world focused in on that one person for the duration of a song.  
  
He was someone then. For five minutes he could move his body along with someone he would never see again, could connect with them on a level he never would face-to-face. And for those few minutes he mattered.  
  
Reyes finished his drink, setting the empty glass back on the bar before he prowled out onto the dance floor.  
  
There wasn’t much room, and bodies pressed close to him as he found the rhythm and allowed the whiskey to loosen his muscles. The throng of limbs verged on the cusp of being chaotic, but the music kept them moving just similarly enough to bring them together, until the dance floor pulsed and pounded like waves against the shore.  
  
He was alone, but enveloped in the heat of bodies that refused to let him feel lonely. He moved through the crowd, following the natural flow of the dance floor, not searching for anything, but letting the music carry him where he needed to go.  
  
And then she was there. It was hard to tell through the pulsing red and blue lights, and harder still to tell through the haze of the six glasses of whiskey, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen her before. In the roiling dark, he couldn’t really see her face, but her body he understood instantly.  
  
She was shorter than him, but perfectly so, so that his face buried into the crook of her neck naturally. She pressed her back to his chest, and her ass pressed against him eagerly. And while her body pressed to his set fire to the alcohol in his bloodstream, she struggled to keep up with the demanding beat of the music.  
  
Reyes let his hands fall to her hips, his strong fingers guiding her body along with his. She learned quickly, and soon his hands didn’t have to instruct, he didn’t have to do anything but surrender to the heat of her body flush against his.  
  
As the rhythm increased she threw her head back to rest against his shoulder. Her left hand snaked up to tangle in his hair, and he was overcome with a sudden, aching need to kiss her. But, he reined it in. This was a party, they were just dancing, no matter how deliciously her hips ground against his.  
  
He bowed his head, his nose trailing against the bare skin of her shoulder that gleamed at him from under her asymmetrical, wide-necked blouse.  
  
Her hand in his hair tightened, and before he could pull back, before the apology on his tongue could get past his lips, that hand tugged his face down to hers.  
  
Her lips were fire against his, warm and sweet from some mixed drink. Something with pineapple, he realized as her tongue teased at his bottom lip. He moaned against her mouth, giving her the access she demanded. He could smell the salt of sweat on her skin, and a hint of something fresh and clean in her hair. Maybe mint?  
  
His head spun, dizzy from the ferocity of her kiss and too much booze. Their movements barely qualified as dancing anymore, and as his mind raced with the possibilities of where this night might head, Reyes had to admit he was drunk.  
  
The song ended, and she spun in his arms, her hands clasping at the back of his head as she dragged him deeper into her kiss. He moaned again, and she rolled her hips against him as she broke the kiss.  
  
He groaned at the loss of her soft, warm lips, his head falling back and his eyes closed against his sudden frustration. She stood on the tips of her toes to press her lips to his ear.  
  
“Thanks for the dance,” she murmured, something deliciously wicked in her low, raspy voice.  
  
And then she was gone.  
  
He watched her walk away, determined to burn as many details of her into his drunken mind. That woman might be in Andromeda, and if she was he was going to find her.  
  
If, by some miracle, he managed to remember her in the morning.


	3. Meet Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Reyesvidalweek day 2 prompt fill: Business or Pleasure?

Reyes hadn’t expected the call from Evfra de Tershaav. The Resistance leader maintained a tense relationship with his Kadaran contact, and considering that their last collaboration had left the angara less than thrilled, Reyes had figured it would be months before Evfra called on him again.

“I’ve got someone coming to Kadara to get Vehn Terev,” the angara growled over the call. 

“And how are they going to do that?” Reyes asked, a dark eyebrow lifted. “Sloane’s got him locked up, wants to put his head on a spike.”

Evfra grunted. “Ryder’s…” he paused, searching for the right word. “Tenacious.”

Reyes laughed. It didn’t matter how tenacious the woman was, not when it came to the tyrant. “Well, Soane’s a stubborn bitch.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure what you want me to do.”

“Help her,” Evfra barked. “Between the two of you, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” And then he disconnected the call.

Reyes sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, shit.” And then he took a long pull of the whiskey bottle Kian kept in his room on the upper floor of Tartarus. He’d have to do some research and get ready for the Pathfinder’s arrival in Kadara. He didn’t think it would really help them get to Terev, but he couldn’t afford to disappoint Evfra again, not if he wanted to keep a working relationship with the Resistance. He took another pull on his whiskey, and went to work.

 

He waited in the back corner of Kralla’s Song to meet Ryder. He sipped at his drink carefully, not really interested in the whiskey. He was eager to lay eyes on the Pathfinder. The woman was making waves throughout Heleus, solving everyone’s problems and establishing outposts in places the Initiative had long since given up on. 

She sounded like a woman who could either help him make real change in Kadara, or cause him endless trouble. He’d prefer the former, and if he could meet her, turn on some of that Vidal charm, he could subtly maneuver her into his plans.

But as soon as the woman walked into sight, he knew manipulating Sara Ryder into anything would be quite the challenge. She was shorter than he expected, at least four inches shorter than him and he wasn’t exactly tall, but that didn’t make her any less intimidating. She walked with purpose, a confidence that swayed her hips and kept her head tilted just enough to jut her jaw out in subtle defiance. She leaned her elbows against the bar and let her eyes scan the room, seeking out her angaran contact. 

Reyes chuckled. He liked her already, and with her short, sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes liking her could be a dangerous thing. He let Umi deal with a belligerent krogan, which had the Pathfinder’s attention, before he approached the bar.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” he said, letting all the swagger of Vidal the Smuggler pour into his voice. He gestured to Umi for two drinks, which she slammed on the counter, before he turned to hand one to Ryder.

She eyed him appreciatively, her gaze dragging over him, and it took all of Reyes’ control not to smirk. And then she took the glass from him with a smirk of her own. “I guess I have time for a drink.”

Her voice washed over him, low and raspier than he anticipated. There was a teasing quality to it, promising pleasure if he could just pass whatever test she threw at him. And as he watched her knock back Umi’s shit whiskey without so much as a wince, the purple tattoo at her ear peeking out from under her hair, Reyes realized he very much wanted to pass the test. With flying colors, if he could.

Keep it together, Vidal, he thought. This is business, not pleasure. She swallowed her swig of alcohol, and he tried not to focus on the movement of her throat. She looked back at him, and he saw the fragmented shards of emerald at the center of her blue eyes for the first time.

He extended his hand. “Shena,” he said. And then he added, “but you can call me Reyes. I hate codenames.”

She took his hand in hers, her grip cool and firm while a smile lingered on the edges of her full lips. And Reyes admitted that maybe his time with the Pathfinder didn’t have to be exclusively business or pleasure. 

Because something about Sara Ryder made him want to take a chance on both.


	4. You Have No Idea What You're in for, do you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a response to a drabble prompt from when I first joined tumblr and Santa Sarita was still just a oneshot that got a little carried away...

This was a mistake, Sara thought. Before she could act on it, Reyes’ tongue darted across her lower lip and she opened her mouth to let him deepen their kiss. He tasted like the cheap whiskey that was always standing guard on the table in his room at Tartarus. The slow jazz playing camouflaged the electronic beats pumping through the bar, and his hand on the small of her back kept her pressed against him. They spun in lazy circles in the room, Reyes keeping their movements in time to the music, until they stood still in the center of the room, too busy with their mouths to pay attention to their feet.   
  
This was a mistake, she reminded herself. He’d lied. He killed Sloane. He wasn’t who she thought he was. He was the Charlatan. All the reasons why this was a bad idea flashed through her mind, but when she broke away from his lips, the wrong words came out.  
  
“Do you have anywhere more… private?” She asked, breathless. She tried to ignore the flip her stomach did at his hungry smile.  
  
“I thought you’d never ask.” He pressed his mouth to hers one more time, and then tugged her from the room.  
  
They wound through Kadara’s streets, the dark of night settling into the tight alleys as they walked through them. She was glad he led the way, because she’d never find her way through the Port without him. They stopped at one door in a line of many, all evenly spaced through the mismatched, salvaged metal buildings. As he unlocked it, and pulled her into the apartment, Sara had so many questions. How long had he lived in the Port? Had he paid Sloane’s fees?   
  
But then she was pressed against the door and all coherent thought left her. She knew nothing beyond where they touched. Hands tugged at clothes, desperate for the soft heat of flushed skin. Starved lips parted to let their tongues tangle together, waging a war of pleasure. Reyes pulled her with him as he walked backwards into the small apartment, but she didn’t take the time to sight-see.   
  
“Did you mean it?” He asked her, panting against her neck.   
  
“Mean what?” She tilted her head to give him more space to work.  
  
He led another series of scorching kisses up to her jaw. “What you said in the cave, about wanting only me.” His voice was low and sultry, but she heard the vulnerability beneath his arousal. His teeth tugged at her earlobe.  
  
“You know I did,” she answered, gasping. He moaned against her neck, and whispered something in Spanish against her throat. She pulled back and gave him her best smirk. “You have no idea what you’re in for, do you?”   
  
He searched her face, desire and something else flickering in his eyes. Something decidedly sweet. “Why don’t you show me?”


	5. Shh... I'm Sleeping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is another dialogue prompt from Tumblr. Enjoy!

Reyes snapped to consciousness as Sara rolled from the bed. He kept perfectly still and listened to her pad around his apartment. He kept his eyes closed, and envisioned her every move. He heard the rustle of fabric as she hunted for her clothes, strewn about the room. Her disgruntled huff when something was particularly difficult to locate. In his imagination she opted to wear his shirt, and little else, instead of tracking down what was hers.  
  
Then she walked away on quiet feet, the door to the bathroom hissing open. She hadn’t brought anything with her on this visit, and the thought of her using his toothbrush, tilted over his sink in his shirt was an extremely pleasant one. She would use his comb, in an effort to tame hair left wild from the night before, and he sincerely hoped she failed. Sara’s appearance was typically tidy in an unaffected and carefree way; she wore little makeup and her hair was cut into a style that purposefully required no maintenance. But, her hair mussed from his hands and her head flung back on the pillows was a look he liked on her.  
  
The door opened, and he remained still. He kept his breaths even and deep, and listened as she stood in the doorway. He wondered what she thought as she stood there, presumably watching him sleep. Was she content, smiling at him with a fondness he didn’t deserve? He hoped so.

She’d been a mess when she came to him at Tartarus the previous night. His last report said she was in the Tafeno System, so her arrival in Kadara was unexpected. He would have been surprised if Keema hadn’t forwarded Dalton’s message that the Tempest had requested a berth. No, her presence in his private room wasn’t a surprise, but her demeanor had been. Frantic and needy, practically vibrating with unspoken tension.  
  
And she’d been straightforward, skipping all pretense of coy flirtations and witty banter.  
  
“I want to go to your place,” she said, before he could even stand to greet her.  
  
His brow furrowed; this wasn’t like her. “Is everything all right?”  
  
Her blue eyes shimmered in the red shadows of his room. “Please,” she said. “I just need you, right now.”  
  
He was sure she’d meant it to sound sexy, but it nearly broke his heart. What had happened in Tafeno? He couldn’t demand more answers from her there, it was obvious she felt exposed enough, so he’d stood and walked her back to his apartment.  
  
Movement in the room pulled Reyes from the memory. Her footfalls across the metal floor led to the kitchen, and he heard the distinct sounds of a spoon in the metal canister he kept on the counter, then there was the rush of water. A moment later the warm aroma of coffee brewing filled the flat. She walked back to the bed, and it sank as she sat beside him.  
  
“Reyes,” she said, her voice soft. Her hand found his shoulder and she shook him gently.  
  
“Shh…” he said. He snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her down to lay beside him. “I’m sleeping.”  
  
She laughed in surprise, her minty breath brushing his skin. He analyzed the sound, and found it to be true. Whatever happened in Tafeno, whatever shook the Pathfinder to her core, had been forgotten somewhere in the night. He pressed his lips to her forehead, content that she would be all right, and pleased that she had given him the opportunity to help.  
  
He ran a hand through her hair, his eyes still closed. “You can always come to me, Sarita,” he murmured.  
  
She stilled in his arms, unprepared for this topic. Finally, she nuzzled her nose against his bare chest. “I know, Reyes.” She paused, and he kept his eyes closed, giving her a moment to find the right words. “Thank you,” she said.  
  
He hummed low in his throat, and pulled her closer. He wanted to ask what had happened, but he had to admit that a part of him was afraid to know. And he didn’t want to push her; she would tell him eventually, if and when she decided she was ready. This was enough now, he thought. She was here, whole in his arms.  
  
It was more than enough.


	6. Come Here Often?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a prompt from the wonderful Blacksheep33512. She does these amazing sketches, and then attaches a writing prompt to them. See the artwork [here!](http://blacksheep33512.tumblr.com/post/162897883109/d-tho-orv-writing-prompts-1-come-here-often) The idea for this was to take the dance scene from Garrus's romance in the Citadel DLC, but to use Sara and Reyes instead. It was insanely fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Reyes waited in his room at Tartarus, pacing the length of the couch. It’d been so long since he’d had an occasion to dress up that he found the collar of his white button-down shirt confining. He wanted to tug at it, to loosen its stranglehold on his windpipe, but he couldn’t. This was what Sara wanted, no matter how ridiculous he felt.   
  
His omnitool beeped, and he looked down to see Kian’s message.  
  


_She’s at the bar._   
  


God bless that man, he thought. Reyes took a moment to pull on the formal coat, buttoning it with jittery fingers. The jacket was cut in the long lines that were fashionable back on the Citadel when he’d left it in 2183. The collar was high and tight, and though it tried to suffocate him, he had to admit he looked good. The coat made him look taller, leaner than he really was, and with the white of his shirt collar beneath it, and the white trim details, he looked ready for a formal event.   
  
Which was the point.   
  
He checked that his hair was perfect, not a single black strand out of place, and then tugged at the hem of his coat, straightening it.   
  
“All right, Vidal,” he murmured to himself. “Show time.”  
  
  
  


Sara sat at the bar, chatting amicably with Kian. She knew the bartender and Reyes were friends and she was hoping that a well placed smile and kind words would convince the man to share some details about the ever mysterious Charlatan. But, Kian was impervious to her charms.   
  
Movement on her left pulled her from their conversation, and she turned to see Reyes leaning casually against the bar. Her eyes widened as she took him in, the sharp lines of his coat hinting at the strength in his shoulders and chest, the tall collar accentuating his jawline. When she finally met his gaze he smirked at her, no doubt pleased by her obvious approval of his choice in formal wear.   
  
“A Pathfinder on shore leave,” he drawled. He motioned for Kian to pour two drinks and then turned back to her. “You come here often?”  
  
Sara bit back a smile as she took her drink from the bartender, who rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word. She took a drink, whiskey of course, before she answered him.   
  
“I do. It’s a good place to blow off steam.” She smirked at him, and let her eyes wander around the club, lingering over the caged dancers. “Scenery’s not bad either.” She felt the weight of his stare, and her comment was rewarded with the faintest traces of a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Though,” she said, pitching her voice lower, dragging her eyes up and down his body. She really did like that suit on him. “The view in front of me is even better.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her and grunted softly. “That supposed to melt a guy’s heart?” He asked, playing into his wounded pride at her wandering eyes.   
  
She bit her lip, not entirely on purpose, and locked eyes with him. “No,” she said, leaning closer to speak in his ear. “But, this voice is.” She sat back, satisfied to see he’d closed his eyes at her words. “I’m Sara Ryder, Human Pathfinder, all-around human biotic and conquerer of worlds.” His lips twitched with humor at her title, but she wasn’t done yet. “Also, I kill Kett on the side. And you are?”  
  
He sipped at his whiskey, the motion languid and self-confident. Perfectly controlled. “Reyes Vidal, smuggler.” He smirked at her, that patented Vidal the Smuggler expression, and Sara had to take a sip of her whiskey to keep from laughing.  
  
“Vidal, huh?” She asked. “I might have heard a few things about you.”  
  
His eyes slid over her, taking in the tight black dress, and the glittering angaran necklace that rested against her collar bone; a gift from Keema just for the occasion. And then his eyes were back on her, full of heat and mischief. “If they’re naughty, they’re right.”  
  
There was a familiar, pleasant heat gathering between her thighs, and Sara didn’t have to try as hard to add a husky quality to her voice. “Well, I’m looking forward to finding out,” she said.  
  
Reyes licked his lips and readjusted his grip on his whiskey glass, beads of condensation gathering under his fingertips. Those were the only hints at the arousal he felt at their little game, and then he shut it down completely, leaning away from her slightly.  
  
“Uh-huh,” he said dismissively. He raised a dubious eyebrow at her. “And do most guys fall for that?”  
  
The song changed, the driving beat of the electronic music fading away to something more subtle, slower and… familiar? She stared at him as the jazz song from their first dance in his room echoed through the club, but his expression never changed from one of mild interest as he waited for her reply.   
  
She cleared her throat. “Well sure,” she said. “You know, this voice and, uh…”  
  
Reyes grinned then. “Seems you’re all out of banter, Ryder.” He finished his whiskey and took her hand. “And since you’re speechless, you won’t be able to protest.” He tugged her out of her seat and onto the dance floor.  
  
“What?” She screeched. “What are you doing?” She pulled against him slightly, desperate not to make a fool of herself for all of Tartarus to see.  
  
Reyes looked back at her over his shoulder. “It’ll be fun,” he promised.  
  
“No, no, no, no!” But it was too late. Reyes spun her out onto the floor before him, and it was a miracle she managed to keep her feet from tangling together in her strappy black heels. And then she was pressed against his chest, his arms firm as they wound around her, guiding her through the steps. “You’re going to pay for this later,” she hissed.  
  
Reyes smiled as he spun her away from him, and with a sharp pull on her hand, brought her back. “Promises, promises,” he murmured, but his eyes were bright with humor and affection. He lead her through the dance, his feet sure as he placed them, his hands commanding and agile as he directed her movements. They found their rhythm, the steps making sense to Sara as she let her body relax. He smirked. “There you go,” he said as she added an extra step with a flare of her hips.  
  
She smiled, forgetting about the gathered crowd, the dancers who made way for them as they swept across the floor. And then she upped the ante. Sara let her hands wander while Reyes led them in sweeping circles. He moaned slightly as her mouth brushed his jaw before he spun her out and away from him. This time, when he pulled her back to him, she was ready.   
  
With her weight in her toes, she twirled into him, her body flush against his as she lifted one leg to hook onto his hip, her hand in his hair. Reyes gasped, the sound just audible as the song ended, and he held her there, searching her face with wonder.   
  
“So, tell me” she drawled. “You think a guy would fall for that?”  
  
“Oh, hell yes,” he groaned. His eyes flicked down to her lips, but didn’t linger there. “You’ve been practicing.”  
  
She shrugged as he released her leg, allowing her to stand on her own. “Lexi recommended yoga for stress relief,” she said. And then she leaned into him, her lips at his ear. “I’m betting it’s even better when you try it in bed.”  
  
The look on his face guaranteed that he was determined to find out. He nodded to Kian and marched off the dance floor, Sara in tow as they hurried back up to his flat.  
  
She chuckled as they stood in the lift, heading up to the port.  
  
“What?” He asked.   
  
She glanced at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I’d say our first ‘date’ was a great success,” she said.   
  
His hand fell to the small of her back, guiding her out of the elevator as the door opened. As she stepped in front of him, his breath was hot in her ear.  
  
“It’s not over, yet.”


	7. Impatient Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a tumblr prompt, "Impatient Kisses: pushing each other against walls/furniture, stumbling over things, etc." Enjoy!

“Peebee,” Sara growled. “Why is your navpoint leading us out into the middle of nowhere?”  
  
Sara loved Elaaden, but it had been a long day of arguing with Morda and fighting all kinds of creatures to prove herself to the krogan. She was ready for a cool shower and an even colder beer back on the Tempest. Plus, she hadn’t seen Reyes in weeks, and even their vidcalls weren’t cutting it anymore, no matter how blush-inducing they were. She needed to get back to Kadara, and soon.  
  
“How should I know?” But something in the asari’s voice hinted that she knew more than she was letting on.  
  
“I swear to God, Peebee, if this is some sort of trick…”  
  
“Less talking, more driving,” Peebee said with a smirk.  
  
Sara grumbled to her self, but focused back on the sand dunes. As they crested a particularly large dune, Sara could see a rock formation in the distance, with some trees nearby. That meant water too. As they approached, she noticed a familiar shuttle parked near a cave.  
  
She glanced at Peebee, who couldn’t hide her grin. “What’s going on?”  
  
“I’m certain I have no idea,” she said as Ryder followed the navpoint until it led her to pull the Nomad up beside Reyes’ shuttle. “Now,” the asari said. “This is the part where you get out of the car and I leave.” She scooted across the front seat until she forced Sara out with her hip. “See you later, Ryder” She called and wagged her eyebrows. “Much later!”  
  
And then she drove off.  
  
Sara glanced around, but there was no sign of Reyes. She walked around his shuttle, but it was locked up and empty. She eyed the cave nervously, and decided she’d check the pond first. But, before she could get halfway there, Reyes appeared over a small dune, a huge grin on his face.  
  
Sara grinned too, and then sprinted to him. He grunted as he caught her, and all her armor, in a tight hug. She peppered kisses across his face, but he finally broke away long enough to shoot her a smirk.  
  
“Looking for someone?” He asked, his voice low and charming. It was the same voice he’d first greeted her with all those months ago in Kralla’s Song.  
  
She laughed. “What are you doing here?” She asked as he set her down.  
  
“Let me show you,” he said, and took her hand. He led her down toward the little oasis, the thin, red-leafed trees offering a little relief from the oppressive heat. There, under one of the trees closest to the water, was a thick blanket and on top of it was an assortment of drinks and snacks.  
  
Sara stared for a moment, and then blinked at him. “A picnic?”  
  
He grinned at her, the heat wilting his hair until it fell over his eyes slightly.  
  
She sniffed, suddenly overwhelmed by the gesture. “You came all the way to Elaaden to have a picnic with me?”  
  
He shrugged. “It’s not that far,” he said.   
  
She laughed, but the sound strangled on the lump in her throat.  
  
“Princesa?” He looked at her, concern in his eyes as he saw her tears. “What’s the matter?”  
  
She pulled him against her, her arms locking behind his neck to drag his mouth down to hers. He let out a surprised little moan, and then melted into her kiss. What started as a loving reunion soon escalated, as Sara’s tongue slid along his bottom lip and Reyes gripped her hips closer against his.  
  
Their lips parted, and Reyes let his tongue carve a trail down her neck.  
  
“Oh, God,” she breathed. Her hand tangled in his hair, damp with sweat and starting to curl. “I missed you so much.”  
  
He moaned in agreement, and his teeth grazed against her throat. “I need to get this armor off you,” he growled.  
  
“Please,” she said, and the desperation in her voice made him bite his lower lip.  
  
He pulled away from her, and tugged her after him as he marched toward the cave.   
  
“We’re not going to the shuttle?” She asked.  
  
He grinned back at her. The heat in his eyes turned the amber irises to liquid gold and made something deep within her clench in anticipation. “I have a better idea,” he promised.  
  
The temperature in the cave was considerably cooler, and as soon as they were cloaked in its shadows Reyes pulled her back into his arms. Their mouths collided in a dizzying dance of lips and tongues, neither of them patient enough to pretend that they needed anything more than pure physical satisfaction.  
  
He pushed her back against the cave wall, her armor scraping against it with the force. His thigh pressed between her legs, and even through her armor the friction was enough to draw a moan from her. She frantically worked at the clasps on her armor, and though he never took his mouth from hers, his fingers moved to help her. The arms of her armor fell to the ground with a clang.   
  
“What is it with you and caves?” She asked between searing kisses, her newly bared hands running through his hair.  
  
“I’m a simple man,” he said. He pulled back far enough to look her in the eye and smirked. “Who occasionally needs to fuck his girlfriend in a cave.”  
  
Her breath hitched and he grinned. He helped pry her chest-plate off, and discarded it with the rest of her armor. His nose trailed along the top of her shoulder and up her neck. She shivered under his hands, and it only added something devilish to his grin, something that set her heart racing and her knees trembling.  
  
“Plus, it’s sort of nostalgic for us now, no?”  
  
Her mind flashed backed to the cave in Draullir and the similarities were too glaring to ignore. She laughed at him. “You planned this too!”  
  
He leaned into her, one hand braced beside her head and pinned her against the wall with his hips until the rough rock dug into her shoulder blade. But, she barely noticed; she was distracted by the press of his body flush against hers and his mouth at her ear.   
  
“Guilty as charged.”


	8. I Have Never Felt This Way About Anyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another dialogue prompt from tumblr. Short and sweet, set post-Meridian.

Reyes knew he should get back in his ship and fly back to Kadara. The Pathfinder was all right, the Archon was dead, and humanity had found its home in Andromeda. There was no excuse for the Charlatan to stay on Meridian. And yet, stay he did. He struggled not to hover over Sara as she healed from her ordeal, or to irritate the doctor that shot him knowing glances whenever she caught him from the corner of her eye. Finally, two days into the Pathfinder’s medical coma, Vetra approached him near the bridge of the Hyperion.   
  
The turian stood close to him, her voice low. “I talked to T’Perro,” she murmured. “The Pathfinder is being moved to her quarters tonight, where she can recover in peace.” She shot him a glance, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to interpret from him. “And privacy,” she added.   
  
Ah. He cleared his throat. “Surely the room will have security measures, for the Pathfinder’s safety.”  
  
Vetra nodded. “The door is pass-code protected,” she said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “And I’m sure Drack will be standing guard.” She fiddled with her omnitool for a moment, and then his pinged.  
  
He looked down, and saw that she’d forwarded him the pass-code. He smiled. “And Drack?”  
  
Vetra laughed. “You’re on your own on that one, Vidal.” She clapped him on the shoulder and moved off to speak with the requisitions officer.   
  
And so he waited. There was much to keep him busy, and his omnitool was a constant stream of data and updates. He hadn’t left Kadara since the Collective’s takeover of the Port, and it quickly became apparent that his absence was keenly felt. The Hyperion had settled into its night cycle when Dr. T’Perro, Dr. Carlyle, and most of the Pathfinder team transported the unconscious Pathfinder into what had once been her father’s room on the Hyperion. He waited for the room to empty, and sure enough Drack posted himself at the door. He waited a half an hour more, just in case the krogan would leave, but Reyes had no such luck.  
  
With a sigh, he minimized his data feed and walked toward Sara’s quarters.  
  
“Heh,” Drack grunted. “Vetra said you’d drop by.”  
  
Reyes smiled, turning on the charm. “Any chance she said to let me pass?”  
  
Drack snorted. “She suggested it.”  
  
“But,” Reyes drawled. “You have other ideas.”  
  
“I don’t trust you,” Drack growled. He stepped forward, his lip curling into a snarl.  
  
Reyes lifted his hands in surrender. “That’s fair,” he said. “And in regard to anything else, probably for the best.” He looked away from the hulking krogan, and to the door behind him. “But with her…”  
  
“And if I don’t believe you?”  
  
Reyes shrugged. “I can’t make you believe me, even if I tell you the truth.” He sincerely hoped his blunt delivery would win him points with her self-appointed krogan papa.  
  
“And what is the truth?” Drack’s voice dropped, low and soft, but still every ounce the protective grandpa.  
  
Reyes stared at the door, knowing Sara was just beyond it, injured and alone. What was the truth? The truth was that he’d put everything at risk to fly across the galaxy so Sara wouldn’t have to face the Archon without him. The truth was that he lingered on Meridian because he couldn’t bear the thought that she would wake up and he wouldn’t be there.  
  
He looked at Drack. “The truth?” He sighed and shook his head, suddenly ashamed to bare all to her squadmate. But, he knew Drack would accept nothing less, and Reyes knew that was the least Sara deserved. “The truth is, Drack, I have never felt this way about anyone.”  
  
The ancient krogan turned his head to stare at him with one eye. Drack analyzed him, sizing him up, weighing him against Sara’s worth, and Reyes was sure that he was about to be flung across the room. Instead, the krogan stepped to the side.  
  
“Don’t make me regret this,” he threatened.  
  
“I won’t,” Reyes said, shaking his head. “Promise.” He stepped forward, and keyed in the pass-code. As the door hissed open, he turned back to the krogan. “Thank you, Drack.”  
  
He huffed, and adjusted his armor uncomfortably. “Just shut up and get in there, before I change my mind.”  
  
Reyes smiled, but took the krogan’s advice. There was somewhere else he’d much rather be, anyway.


	9. "Oh, you scared me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another tumblr prompt! Enjoy!

Cold hands on his skin startled Reyes awake. He stood abruptly and his chair screeched across the floor as he tried to get his bearings. Elegant, modern furnishings, a built in shelf of guns and ship models. Plants. Sara unconscious on the large bed before him. Wide gray eyes set in an open, friendly blue face.  
  
Right. Meridian. The Pathfinder’s quarters. His heartbeat was a staccato against his ribs, and the doctor didn’t look much better.  
  
“Oh!” She said, stepping back with a hand to her chest. “You scared me!” She laughed, a pleasant sound in the tense hush of the room. “I’m sorry, Vidal,” she said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”  
  
Reyes scrubbed a hand across his face, willing the last vestiges of sleep to leave him. “Sorry,” he said. He exhaled and felt his pulse begin to settle. “I’m usually a light sleeper,” he admitted. “People don’t typically get close enough to touch me before I wake up.”  
  
She cast him a knowing glance as she turned her attention to Sara. “You haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”  
  
He shrugged. “It’s nothing new.” He was used to strange hours and little sleep; the Charlatan’s work was never done.  
  
Dr. T’Perro checked Sara’s pulse, and then ran some scans with her omnitool.   
  
“How is she?”  
  
The asari smiled. “She’s mending well, only a few more days and we can cease administering the sedative. She should wake a day or so after that on her own.”   
  
He sank back into his chair. “Good,” he said. He watched the doctor for a moment more, as she made sure Sara was comfortable. “Thank you, Lexi,” he said. “For letting me stay.”  
  
She looked at him from her spot on the bed, on the other side of Sara from him. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you would.”  
  
His brow pulled down as he frowned. “Does none of her crew believe that I care for her?”  
  
“There were doubts,” the doctor admitted. “But I think most of the crew has been swayed by the fact that you came to Meridian at all.”  
  
“¿Necesito caminar sobre el agua?” He grumbled under his breath.   
  
Lexi cocked her head, puzzled. “Is that a religious reference?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Human Christianity featured a figure who performed miracles, such as walking on water. Yes?”  
  
Reyes blushed. “Oh, you understood that.”  
  
Lexi laughed. “Were you speaking Spanish? My translator is set for all Earth languages.”  
  
“Of course it is.” He ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“Anyway,” Lexi continued. “I figured you’d be back on Kadara by now.” She eyed him, and Reyes had to remind himself that she was a psychologist. No doubt her easy demeanor was intentional.  
  
“I probably should be.”  
  
“Then why stay?”  
  
“Would you leave?” He asked her. “If someone you cared for was about to wake up after the biggest ordeal of their life, would you abandon them before they did?” He’d thought spinning the question on her would take some of the scrutiny off of him. But she smiled, as if he’d told her everything she needed to know.  
  
“No,” she said. She stood and looked down at Sara fondly. Then she glanced at him. “If you’re unwilling to actually sleep in the bed, at least consider the couch.” She gave him a stern look. “Sleeping slumped in the chair is bad for your spinal column.”  
  
He kept the smirk off his lips, just barely. “I’ll take it into consideration,” he said with a nod.  
  
“Goodnight, Mr. Vidal.”  
  
“Goodnight, Dr. T’Perro.”


	10. Reading a Book Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another tumblr prompt! Enjoy!

Reyes could tell that Sara didn’t spend much time in the Pathfinder’s quarters on Hyperion. The guns on the wall were one clue. Sara was a lethal biotic and she didn’t have much patience for firearms beyond her Equalizer, which fired almost as fast as she moved across the battlefield. It was obvious the weapons had belonged to her father, just like the antique coffee machine and the vast array of monitors.  
  
He forgave her for not inviting him here before. Undoubtedly the room was painful for her, a monument to the man she’d loved, despite their differences.  
  
But now, as he sat at her bedside, watching over her as she lay with unnatural calm, he really wished there was more of her personality in the room. He’d already scoured it for any sort of speakers, but apparently Alec had not been a fan of music. His furniture was all standard issue, as to be expected, and his work station was heavily encrypted. Reyes was confident he could hack the system, but he wouldn’t. That was an invasion of privacy he couldn’t rationalize. It might get him answers to nagging questions, but so would more conversations with Sarita.  
  
Restless, he stood and paced the room again. It was late and he should try to sleep, but he felt pent up. He’d already listened to all the audio logs scattered around the room, and though the information Dr. T’Soni shared with Alec was interesting, it was of little value beyond the scope of the Protheans. Reyes imagined Sara sitting on the couch, listening with great wonder as an expert in her field gave her father pointers for discovering new life. The image brought a smile to his face.  
  
He turned and paced along the shelves nearest the door. There was a long series of paper books, intriguing purely by their existence. On closer inspection, they proved to be the journals of Lewis and Clark, 19th Century human explorers.  
  
Reyes opened one, curious, and groaned. They were dreadfully boring. He glanced at Sara where she slept, her face serene. Dr. T’Perro had ceased administering the sedative, and was confident that Sara could hear them. She said it would only be a couple days before she woke.  
  
He looked back at the book and sighed as he tucked it under his arm. He lay on the bed beside her, propped up on pillows against the headboard and opened the book.  
  
“'August 30, 1803. Left Pittsburgh this day at 11 o’clock with a party of eleven hands, seven of which are soldiers, a pilot and three young men on trial, they having proposed to go with me throughout the voyage.’” Reyes glanced at her. “Did your father actually read these?” He asked. “This is terrible.” He cleared his throat and continued. “'Arrived at Bruno’s Island three miles below, halted a few minutes. Went on shore and being invited on by some of the gentlemen present to try my airgun, which I had purchased…’” he paused and skimmed ahead.   
  
He grunted, turning back to Sara. “He goes on for about two more paragraphs bragging about his shooting.” He skimmed a little further. “Holy shit,” he said. “They shot a woman!” He checked to see if she responded in any fashion, but she was still as ever. He read on. “Huh, the woman was fine, just a scratch apparently. Then they left, until they made camp, at which point Lewis gave his men whiskey.” He smirked, “my kind of man.” He frowned. “Well, except for the shooting women accidentally.”  
  
He yawned, and sank lower on the bed. He tried to read further, but the journals were a better sedative than anything Lexi could provide him. He set the journal on the nightstand, and then rolled to face Sara, his arm looping over her stomach.  
  
He watched in awe as her lips curled up at the corners, and a tiny pleased moan left her mouth. Gingerly, he kissed her cheek and settled into the bed beside her.  
  
“Tomorrow, I’ll find something more entertaining to read,” he promised, and then fell asleep, the warmth of her smile just as comforting as the warmth of her body.


	11. Our Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wrote this for Reyes Vidal Week, prompt "Darkest Moments, Brightest Lights"... this is Reyes' darkest moment from his childhood. Fair warning, implied murder ahead.

Reyes pushed open the door to their apartment, his brothers close on his heels as he entered the living room. The sudden, hushed silence between his mother and father told him that they’d been fighting again. There’d been a lot of that ever since the Alliance slapped Reyes Sr with a dishonorable discharge.  
  
“Reyito,” he mother said. “Go help your abuela in the kitchen.”  
  
His father rolled his eyes, but Reyes obeyed. Paulo and Octavio followed him out of habit; none of them wanted to witness the fight between their parents.  
  
As he turned into the kitchen, Reyes smiled. His abuela stood over the stove, swaying her hips to the song playing from the family’s omnitool.  
  
“Reyito!” She called to him over the music. “Come stir this.” She pointed to a steaming pot on one of the back burners, and he didn’t hesitate to do her bidding. Paulo and Octavio slumped into chairs at the small table in their eat-in kitchen and dealt cards to play slapjack together. Reyes stirred the sauce simmering in the pot, humming along as his grandma sang and danced while she seasoned the pork they were having for dinner.  
  
“No tiene nada que ver con el,” his mother shouted from the living room.  
  
“El deberia trabajar,” his father countered, just as loud. “El tiene edad suficiente.”  
  
Reyes kept his focus on the stove, but felt his brothers’ eyes on his back.  
  
“Don’t listen to your idiot father, Reyes.”  
  
He turned to look at his abuela. Her wrinkled face was creased from the force of her smile, her amber eyes warm with understanding. He smiled back at her, grateful for the comfort offered by his usually stern grandmother.  
  
Reyes watched over the sauce and had just started the rice, Paulito and Octavtio giggling as they each rushed to slap the jack of clubs before the other. That sound was much better than the continued shouts from their parents. But, as he stirred the sauce, trying to let the music and his brothers’ laughter soothe him, a loud knock at the door ended his parents argument.  
  
A chill ran down Reyes’ spine as his abuela turned off the music. The knock came again, louder this time, followed by a thickly accented voice that sounded like gravel dragged over sandpaper.  
  
“C’mon, Vidal,” the man on the other side of the door called. “We know you’re in there. We could hear you shoutin’ halfway down the hall!”  
  
His grandmother grabbed his shoulder and spun him to face her. “Take your brothers and go to my room,” she whispered.  
  
“But,” he protested.  
  
“Now,” she snapped and stuffed her rosary into his hand. “Pray, Reyito!”  
  
“What’s happening?” Paulo asked as Reyes herded his brothers into their abuela’s small bedroom.  
  
“Shh,” Octavio said. At ten, he was old enough to understand that something bad was happening.  
  
“Both of you, shut it!” Reyes snapped as he pushed them down onto the floor. “Get under the bed.”  
  
The boys complied, the fear in their oldest brother’s voice enough to convince them to listen without complaint. Reyes shut the rickety, makeshift door his father had grudgingly built for their abuela, but left it ajar enough that he could see the kitchen through the crack. And then he knelt, his back to the bed, and prayed.  
  
“Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”  
  
The door to the apartment screeched open, like it was being pried back from the wall.  
  
“Thy kingdom come,”  
  
His father’s voice carried through the door. “No! Please,” he cried. “I just need more time!”  
  
A wicked laugh filled the apartment. “More time? You were supposed to pay your debt two months ago!”  
  
“I know,” his father said. “But-” There was a sickening crunch as armor met flesh and his father cried out.  
  
“Thy will be done,” Reyes continued. “On Earth as it is in Heaven.”  
  
“Grab him,” the accented voice growled, and the distinct sound of his father crying came closer. “Let’s all go to the kitchen, shall we?” The gravelly voice asked, brimming with false cheer.  
  
“Please,” his mother’s voice rang through the apartment.  
  
“Give us this day,” Reyes said, though his voice faltered at the sound of his mama crying. “Our daily bread.”  
  
“Reyes,” Paulo mewled from under the bed.  
  
“Shh, Paulito,” Octavio whispered, though he sounded just as frightened as their youngest brother. Both boys fell silent, but a hand clamped around each of Reyes’ ankles.  
  
His father yelped and there was a thud as the kitchen floor shook. Reyes opened his eyes to see his father kneeling in the kitchen, his back facing the door to their abuela’s room. From this angle Reyes could see the blue and white striped armor of the mercenary, but not his face.  
  
“Please,” his father sobbed, his voice thick and bubbling.  
  
“Forgive us our trespasses,” Reyes whispered. “As we forgive those who trespass against us.”  
  
“If you kill me, you’ll never be repaid,” his father hiccuped, begging for his life from his knees.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know,” the merc said. The sneer on his face was plain in his voice as he pulled a pistol from his hip.  
  
“Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Reyes’ grip on the rosary tightened, until he thought the beads might burst in his fists.  
  
“You’ve got a lovely family that I’m sure some Batarian shit-head will pay plenty for.”  
  
“For thine is the kingdom,” Reyes breathed, afraid to be any louder than that.  
  
His mother and abuela joined into the chorus of his father’s sobbing pleas.  
  
“The power,” Reyes whispered, his voice thin as the pistol leveled its barrel at his father’s head. “And the glory, forever.”  
  
“Please,” his father said, one last time. And then the merc fired his gun.  
  
“Amen.”


	12. One Falling Asleep on the Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another tumblr prompt, pure fluff.

Reyes helped Sara down onto the couch, his hands firm but gentle as he guided her into a careful seated position. He didn’t jostle her, and took extra care to be sure that the tender sutures on the back of her head didn’t bump against the back of the sofa.   
  
Normally, Sara would complain about his fussing over her, but she was exhausted. She’d insisted on doing as many laps around the Tempest as she could without his help. That turned out to be about two and a half, after which he helped her walk back to her room, his arm firm and steady under hers.  
  
Once he was sure she was settled he moved about room. She watched him in tired silence as he grabbed a pillow from her bed and a blanket. Wordlessly, he tilted her head forward, and tucked the pillow behind it.  
  
She sighed at the relief of not having to hold her own head up. The pillow was propped perfectly so that she could see the screen without having to move. Then he draped the blanket over her.  
  
“Reyes,” she said.  
  
He looked at her, worry creasing the corners of his golden eyes. “Do you want popcorn?” He asked. But he didn’t wait for her response. “Of course you do. I do,” he said with a smile. “I’ll get some water too.”   
  
She knew he thought she was crazy for demanding they watch a vid, but she was so sick of laying down all the time that even sitting on the sofa seemed exciting.  
  
“Reyes,” she said again, louder this time.  
  
He stopped tucking the blanket in around her and looked at her. “Do you want anything else?”  
  
She shook her head, and hissed as her sutures scraped against the fabric of the pillow.  
  
“Princesa,” he murmured. “Por favor, deja de hacerte daño,” he said, his hands on either side of her face, keeping her still.  
  
She puckered her lips, silently asking for a kiss. He obliged, and though she was damaged goods at the moment, she was frustrated at how chaste his lips were against hers. When he broke the kiss she smiled at him. “That’s all I wanted.”  
  
He grinned, and then left the room to get their drinks and popcorn. While he was gone she managed to cue up the vid, with SAM’s help, and had just settled back into her pillow when Reyes returned. The aroma of the popcorn almost made her forget how broken she was. It almost felt like a normal night in with her boyfriend, not that they’d ever had that before. Apparently one of them needed to be practically bedridden for them to get a little rest and relaxation.  
  
He frowned when he saw the vid cued up on the screen. “I would have done that,” he said as he dimmed the lights and then sat beside her.  
  
“SAM helped,” she said, leaving out the effort it had taken to get her pillow back to just the right spot after she’d leaned too far forward.  
  
He set the popcorn on her lap, and sat with their sides flush together. She relished the closeness of him, thankful for his literal support as she leaned against him slightly. But, she also just enjoyed the closeness they shared these last few days, even if she’d been a grump a lot of the time.  
  
Reyes started the movie, which Sara chose at random from Liam’s pirated collection. It was some turian film about the rachni wars that proved to be much funnier than it intended to be. Apparently they couldn’t get any krogan to agree to be in the film, so an all turian cast were in terrible costumes, saying horribly stereotypical krogan things.  
  
“Ha! They’re dead!” One turian-turned-krogan cried as it punched what was supposed to be a rachni queen in the face.   
  
Sara laughed, but was surprised when Reyes didn’t. She looked over to see his face illuminated in orange and yellow light as ships exploded on the screen. He was asleep, his head lolled back against the couch, mouth slightly open.  
  
Gingerly, Sara dropped the empty popcorn bowl onto the floor beside her feet. “Reyes,” she murmured.  
  
He grunted, but didn’t wake.  
  
She was so tired, and so weak from her whole ordeal that she wasn’t sure she could move him. But she was sure that he couldn’t sleep like that or he’d have a stiff neck and a headache the next day.  
  
“Reyes,” she tried again.  
  
“Hm?” He moaned, his head tilting toward her slightly.  
  
She patted her lap. “Come here,” she said. “Lay down.”  
  
He was asleep enough that he forgot she was injured, otherwise she was sure he would never have scooted down to lay his head in her lap. But she was happy he did. He sighed as he wiggled into a more comfortable position, lying on his back, legs up on the arm of the couch, and his head resting in her blanketed lap.  
  
She considered his face for a moment. Even in the shadowy room she could see the circles under his eyes, the evidence of just how little sleep he’d had since she was hurt. He’d been with her this whole time, barely sleeping, barely eating if Scott was to be believed. She sighed and ran her fingers through his hair.  
  
A quiet, contented moan rumbled in his throat, and the tension at the corners of his eyes eased away. So she continued her ministrations, a steady soothing rhythm against his scalp as she tried not to laugh too hard at the remaining terrible scenes in the movie.  
  
Though, judging from the peaceful little snores in the back of his throat, Reyes would sleep right through just about anything at that moment. And Sara was glad. There was no where else she wanted him to be.


	13. I Don't Want You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a dialogue prompt on tumblr. Set just after "The Cost of Salvation".

“I think that’s all of them,” Reyes said.  
  
They stood on the cool metal walkway in Ditaeon. Reyes watched her, his gut clenched and his breaths sharp in his nose. The air rippled around her in halos of purple and blue, the heavy scent of singed ozone clinging to her skin. Sara panted, her back to him as her biotics continued to lick up her arms, like cold blue flames. She was a burning star in the dark Kadara night, and if he got too close he knew she would consume him.  
  
“You think?” She spun on him, bright blue power encasing her in a solar flare of her own creation. She stepped toward him, her knees bent slightly and her weight forward in her feet, like a cougar waiting to pounce. “Are you sure? There’s nothing else you need to tell me?”  
  
His heart fluttered in his chest, and he took an involuntary step back. He’d never feared her before, but then they’d always been on the same side.  
  
Suddenly she was in front of him, her biotics melted away, drenching them in the outpost’s shadows. He could touch her if he only lifted a hand, but he was frozen in place. “Please,” he said. “Tell me what I can do to fix this.” Reyes Vidal was a man of control, and suddenly he’d lost his grip on everything. If he could just go back, if he could see how simple a thing it really was to tell her everything, it would have been so much easier than reliving this moment for the rest of his life.  
  
“I don’t think you can,” she said. But, there was something off about the words. Something that tugged at Reyes’ mind, demanding attention. Her voice was cold and sharp as steel, and that wasn’t right. That’s not how this happened.  
  
“Let me try,” he begged. He reached out then, his desperation finally breaking through the paralysis of the moment. She stepped into his arms, and put a hand to his face. And though her fingers were soft on his cheek, there was something hard in her blue eyes.  
  
She shook her head, a condescending smile on her perfect lips. “Poor, Reyes,” she said, her hand still on his cheek. “You don’t get it.” She leaned in, bringing her lips to the opposite side of his face.  
  
He suppressed a shudder as her mouth traced delicate kisses just beneath his ear. This was wrong. This wasn’t what happened.  
  
Her lips found his earlobe and she bit it gently, tugging at the tender flesh just the way he liked. And then her breath was hot in his ear as she lifted onto her tip-toes to speak, her voice a firm and deliberate whisper.  
  
“I don’t want you.”  
  
  
  


Reyes sat up in bed, the sheets clinging to him. His heart hammered against his rib cage, and the cool air of his apartment chilled the beaded sweat that covered his chest. It took him a moment, trembling in the dark of his bedroom, to realize that it had been a dream. Sara never said those words to him, would never say them. She had never looked at him with such patronizing eyes, such careless malice.  
  
No, that night in Ditaeon had been hell for them both, purely because she did want him, just as much as he wanted her. But he knew she was right. Reyes wanted her, wanted to be with her, but the Charlatan couldn’t. Not if he was going to cement his place at the top of Kadara’s food chain. Not if he was going to make his mark on this galaxy.  
  
Not if he was going to be someone.  
  
And she knew that, understood it long before he did. And so she did the right thing, like she always did. She cut the cord.  
  
Reyes ran a hand over his tired face, finding relief in the cool sting of the silver ring still on his right hand. He groaned, and stood, stretching. He might as well make some coffee and get some work done; there was no way he was going to fall back asleep tonight.


	14. I Don't Care That it's 2AM, We Need Pie!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a dialogue prompt on tumblr, and I think it's still my favorite. This takes place between Sacrament and Sanctified.

“I don’t care that it’s 2:00 AM, we need pie!” Scott’s slurred voice startled Sara awake.  
  
“What?” She said, sitting up and clutching the sheets to her chest. She wasn’t wearing nearly enough clothing for unexpected visitors.  
  
“Babe,” Gil’s voice chased him through the door to her quarters. “Leave her be. Nobody cares that you want pie.” Even the engineer’s voice was slower than usual. How late had they stayed up, drinking and playing cards? And were they seriously talking about pie?  
  
Scott stumbled into the room in his Blasto tank and lounge pants. His face was bright red with the effects of too much booze, and a petulant frown tugged at his mouth. He plopped onto the foot of the bed and looked to Sara, who was too bewildered to say anything. Her brother’s head wobbled on his neck as he looked at her, and then a mischievous grin came over his face.  
  
“I bet Reyes would care,” he announced to the room. “Reyes is my buddy.”  
  
“Scott,” she said, her voice a clear warning. “Don’t.”  
  
He only grinned wider. They were en route to Kadara, but she had no intention of seeing the Charlatan while they were planetside. She hadn’t seen him since, well… it’d been awhile. And for both their sakes they’d agreed it should stay that way.   
  
And then Scott was dialing him.  
  
Sara reached for her twin’s wrist, but he jumped from the bed and to the other side of the room. Sara was about to chase after him, her own sense of propriety be damned, when the call was answered.  
  
“Scott?” Reyes’ smooth, accented voice filled the room, stealing her breath. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling me?”   
  
The fear in his voice tore at her heart and she felt tears threaten to fall. She looked at Gil standing in the doorway, as if he could help her now.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed. His face was almost as red as Scott’s, but she thought mortification at the situation had more to do with it than alcohol.  
  
“Nothing’s wrong,” Scott said to Reyes, oblivious to the exchange between her and Gil. “Except, it’s 2 AM and I am tragically bereft of pie!”  
  
“You’re drunk,” Reyes accused with a chuckle.  
  
“Eh,” Scott shrugged. “Potatoes, potah-” he paused, confused. “Wait…”  
  
The laugh that filtered through the omnitool was warm and throaty, and it brought forth a wave of pleasant memories. Reyes on the Tempest, laughing with her crew, her family. His bare skin as he cooked dinner for her in the tiny prefab in Varren’s Scalp. His shared laughter with Scott in the Vortex, the very first time they’d met.   
  
She shut down those thoughts and refocused on the cringe-worthy scene before her.  
  
“Is Sara there?” Reyes asked.  
  
Scott looked to her, and she shook her head violently, her sandy brown hair whipping at her face.  
  
Scott looked back to the vidcall. “She says ‘no’.”  
  
Gil dropped his head into one hand, and Sara closed her eyes and took deep, measured breaths. There was an awkward silence, and then Reyes let out a pained sigh.  
  
“What about Gil?”  
  
The engineer jumped forward, one hand clamping onto Scott’s shoulder. “Present!” He nearly shouted. “So sorry, Vidal. I’ll get him to bed straight away.”  
  
Scott made to protest, but his boyfriend’s glare convinced him otherwise. “Goodnight, Reyes,” he said instead.  
  
There was a long, quiet moment before he replied.   
  
Sara’s blood went cold as she waited for his response. What was he thinking? Was he mad? Did he hate Scott for calling him at some ungodly hour? Did he hate her for refusing to speak with him? Did he hate her for her decision all those months ago? Did he miss her the way she missed him?  
  
“Goodnight, Ryder,” he said finally, his voice soft and resigned. And she knew the words weren’t meant for her brother.  
  
They were for her.  
  
  
  


The next morning Sara stood in the cargo hold with Vetra, helping her friend inventory a new shipment from the Collective.  
  
“There’s something here for Scott,” the turian called from the other side of the Nomad.   
  
Sara moved to look at the fairly small, square box that sat nestled into a larger crate.  
  
“There’s a note,” Vetra said, handing a datapad to Sara.  
  
  


_Scott,  
_ _  
You’re a difficult man to please, especially on such short notice. I hope you like angaran fruit!_  
 _Give my best to the Pathfinder and her team._  
  
                          - R

Sara smiled at the datapad and shook her head, a little chuckle of disbelief falling from her lips. She passed the device back to Vetra.   
  
“Better go let brother-dearest know that he has a special delivery.” She spun on her heel and marched up the ramp toward the crew quarters, leaving a very confused turian blinking behind her. As the door hissed open to reveal the hallway she heard Vetra’s voice from the cargo bay.  
  
“Is this a pie?”


	15. The Things You Said I Wouldn't Understand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was another Tumblr prompt. It takes place during Sanctified. I hope you like it!

Reyes leaned over the Nomad’s engine, elbow deep in the compartment as he added one of the mods Sara had developed. This particular one would maximize the Nomad’s top speed, and Reyes was pretty sure that was a bad thing. The Pathfinder wasn’t the best driver.  
  
It was the first time he’d worked on the vehicle without Gil hovering over his shoulder, critiquing and coaching him in turns. It’d been frustrating, but the engineer was damn good at his work, and Reyes’ friend so he treated him with patience. After three away missions and no malfunctions, Gil conceded that maybe he could use help with the Nomad. Reyes figured he just wanted to get some sleep and focus on the Tempest, but the reason didn’t really matter to him.  
  
He needed something to work on, something to do with his hands. Back home, that was his shuttle. Anytime he was faced with a particularly complicated problem for the Collective Reyes would tweak and modify his shuttle, letting his hands be his focus while his brain tackled his problems in the background.  
  
And he had no shortage of problems on the Tempest. In fact, his biggest one was walking by at the moment.  
  
He would have missed her if he hadn’t pushed away from the Nomad to wipe his greasy hands on the towel that hung from his back pocket. Sara walked by, her tennis shoes quiet on the cargo hold floor, and when their eyes met she sent him a small smile. And though her lips curled convincingly enough, the smile didn’t reach her eyes.  
  
She didn’t stop to chat, though that wasn’t unusual. Things were tense between them, more often professional than they were friendly. He hoped that, over time, that would change.  
  
Reyes tried not to stare as she continued through the hold, but his gut clenched when he realized where she was headed. Liam’s door was open, as usual, and fast-paced rock music was pouring from the room. He was probably working out, as usual.  
  
As Sara entered the room the music turned off.  
  
“Sara,” Liam greeted.  
  
Reyes turned his attention back to the Nomad. He was certain this was a conversation he didn’t want to hear.  
  
“You wanted to see me?” She asked, but her voice was flat.  
  
“Can we talk?” Kosta asked, and the heavy tone hinted that it wouldn’t be a good talk.  
  
Maybe Reyes wanted to hear this conversation after all. But, as Sara agreed to the conversation, the door hissed closed. He shot a glance back at the door, and then shrugged. It was probably for the best anyway.  
  
  


He had just slammed the hood back down, satisfied with a job well done, when he heard Liam’s door hiss open again. On reflex, he looked up, and was surprised to see Sara crying as she walked away from the room.  
  
His feet moved automatically. No matter how much time had passed, or how tense things were between them, Reyes could never ignore Sara when she was in distress.  
“Hey,” he said as he drew close. His voice was low, careful not to draw attention from any of the crew that might be lingering.  
  
“I’m okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. She didn’t look at him, but over his shoulder. It was enough to let him get a good look at her face. The tears were quiet, delicate in their descent down both her cheeks.  
  
“Then why are you crying?”  
  
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”  
  
His hand reached out and rubbed her upper arm, the first physical contact they’d had since that night in MacTavish’s. She didn’t pull away. “I can’t if you don’t tell me,” he said.  
  
She shook her head again, strands of sandy brown hair falling from her loose bun. But when her eyes met his fresh tears pooled in them. “He broke up with me,” she whispered.  
  
“What?” He hadn’t expected that, or the hope that bubbled in his chest. “Why?”  
  
She gave him a pointed look. Him? Liam broke up with her because of him?  
  
Reyes shook his head. “We barely even talk,” he said, as if that were evidence enough of her loyalty.  
  
She shrugged. “He knows that.” She looked behind him, toward Liam’s room, and then met his gaze.  
  
Her eyes were so blue, so captivating, even if they were red-rimmed and starting to puff. She backed away from him and he let his hand fall to his side.  
  
“But,” she said, still looking at him. “He’s not wrong.”  
  
She turned and hurried out of the cargo hold, Reyes standing in stunned silence as he watched her leave.


	16. The Things You Said Between Clenched Teeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another Tumblr prompt! Enjoy!

“Ryder,” Reyes gasped as Sara shoved him back against the refrigerator. The previous night’s dinner, a bland roast of Scott’s creation, was reheating in the oven. Reyes was hoping the liberal application of spices would help the leftovers when the Pathfinder had appeared in the doorway. And then she was pressed against him, her body pushing his back into the fridge as her teeth grazed his collarbone. He moaned as the scraping sensation sent shivers up his spine.  
  
“Shh,” She chided him. As if it were his fault he made too much noise. She continued carving a path up his neck, her teeth pressing to where his jaw met his throat.  
  
He put a hand on her rib cage, just below her breasts, and relished the feel of her hot skin against his palm. She wore that stupid Blasto shirt, the one that was entirely unfair and showed so much of her pale skin, constantly begging him to touch. His other hand snaked up to tangle in her sandy brown hair, so much longer now than the last time his hands had the liberty to touch it. He tugged, pulling her face up to his.  
  
Her mouth was a fire, her tongue scorching his lips as she demanded entrance. He knew he should stop this, but he’d never been very good at telling her no. And, as wrong as it was, he couldn’t deny that her tongue tangling with his felt so damn right. Until he tasted the beer on her lips.   
  
Beer she would have shared with Liam.  
  
Reyes spun to pin her against the fridge, her hands held above her head in one of his own. He broke the kiss, and pulled back just far enough to look her in the eye.  
  
“We can’t keep doing this,” he panted.  
  
“I know,” she breathed, her breath sweet with malts from the beer. She leaned her head forward and caught his lips in her own. Reyes moaned against her, temporarily lost in the heat of her. She overwhelmed him with the fragrance of mint in her hair, the sweet taste of her tongue, the delicate whimpers that climbed from her throat.   
  
He pulled back again, amazed at his own self control. “Someone is going to get hurt,” he told her, the thumb of his right hand tracing just beneath the band of her bra, teasing the sensitive flesh there.  
  
She stifled a moan behind her locked jaw, her head falling back against the refrigerator. “I know,” she ground out through clenched teeth. But still her hips rolled against his, craving connection.  
  
Reyes kissed her again, but the heat had faded from him. His lips were soft against hers, a reminder of another time, when there had been more between them than just sexual chemistry. And then he stepped away from her and sat on the booth; it’d be best if there was furniture between them.  
  
She took a moment to catch her breath, and when she finally met his eyes there was surprise in hers.  
  
“What?” He asked.   
  
She shrugged. “I’m just surprised,” she said. “I didn’t think you cared about Liam.”  
  
He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong,” he started. “He’s a nice enough guy, in a fraternity sort of way.” He laughed at her frown. “But, I don’t give a shit about Liam,” he said. “I care about you.” He looked away, suddenly embarrassed by the admission. He adjusted his seat on the couch, and tried to convince himself he wasn’t fidgeting. “Things will be easiest if we avoid public displays,” he mumbled.  
  
She watched him a moment, her blue eyes seeing right through him as always. Had it really been over a year since they’d been so close? It didn’t feel like it. No, Reyes thought. It felt like she knew him better than ever.  
  
“It’s a small ship, Reyes.” She ran a hand through her hair, her silver ring shining in the fluorescent kitchen lights. “Someone is going to find out eventually.”  
  
He nodded and sighed. “Forgive me if I want to prolong that as long as possible.” He didn’t look forward to the conversations that would follow the reveal of their rekindled romance. Though he was sure Scott, and therefore Gil, already had a hunch.  
  
Sara approached the table, and leaned across it to kiss him. Her lips were gentle, patient when moments before they’d been demanding. It was a lazy dance, unworried that time might be running out and confident that it would be continued later. When she finally broke the kiss she smirked at him.  
  
“I think your dinner is burning.”


	17. A White Lie or a Hard Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was part of ReyesVidalWeek, A White Lie or a Hard Truth. Set during Sanctified.

The Pathfinders were arguing. Still. Sara wasn’t known for her patience, and apparently the Quarian Pathfinder was a hot-head. Scott had already given up, his usually careful poise shattered in the face of Joh’Zolan’s obstinance.  
  
The younger twin had stormed out of the vidcon, muttering to Reyes, “He’s worse than Addison.”  
  
“I’m not ‘brandishing’ your mistakes, Pathfinder,” Sara argued. “I’m only trying to be realistic about the ark’s situation.”  
  
Reyes bit back a smirk. That wasn’t entirely true, but the Quarian didn’t know how typically idealistic the Human Pathfinder was.   
  
“I will not be spoken to so disrespectfully by a child,” he proclaimed.   
  
Reyes winced, his eyes bouncing between the two Pathfinders. They stood on opposite sides of the conference table, and he was the anchor between them, the calm point of a very frustrated triangle.  
  
Sara scowled across the table at the Quarian. “I am not a child,” she growled.  
  
Joh’Zolan scoffed. “You’re hardly old enough to go on a Pilgrimage.”  
  
“I’m not sure why you think my age has anything to do with my success as Pathfinder.”  
  
He laughed, a condescending sound, even through his respirator. “It has everything to do with it,” he said. “It’s a matter of experience.” He leaned forward, his hands planted on the edge of the table and glared at Sara.  
  
Well, Reyes assumed he glared; he couldn’t really tell through the envirosuit’s mask.   
  
“Alec must have been out of his mind when he transferred SAM to you!” He sneered, “I didn’t think him so foolishly sentimental.”  
  
The blood in his veins chilled as Sara went perfectly still. Joh’Zolan had hit a nerve. She stared at the Quarian, and though her face was carefully blank, Reyes knew she struggled to keep her composure. The ice in her voice when she next spoke startled even Reyes.   
  
“This meeting is over,” she said. “Contact us when you’re ready to offer solutions instead of accusations.” She didn’t glance at Reyes before she walked down toward her quarters, and that was more telling than anything. She didn’t want him to see just how much the Quarian’s words had affected her.   
  
Joh’Zolan sighed and pushed away from the table, crossing his arms. He glanced at Reyes. “Why do you linger, human?”  
  
The contempt in his voice was all Reyes needed to decide how best to respond to the Pathfinder.  
  
Reyes pounced forward, closing the distance between himself and the Quarian, and shoved the man back against the wall with the thick plastic of his wrist-brace held under his chin.  
  
“What do you thi-?”  
  
“Shut up!” Reyes shoved him harder against the wall. His wrist flared hot with pain, but he didn’t let it show. “You have no idea what she’s been through, what she’s done, what she’s sacrificed to pave the way for the Initiative,” he growled. “She almost died just trying to find you!”  
  
“Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for her?”  
  
Reyes applied pressure to the Quarian’s throat. “It’s supposed to make you shut the fuck up and listen.” He waited a moment, but when the Pathfinder didn’t speak, he continued. “Today is the last time you even so much as look at her with anything less than the respect you would show Alec Ryder.”  
  
“She has yet to prove-”  
  
The pressure against the Quarian’s throat increased again.   
  
“She doesn’t have to prove shit to you. She already proved herself to the whole damn cluster.”  
  
“And who are you to make such demands? Her varren?”  
  
For a moment he actually considered telling the Pathfinder he was the Charlatan, but it wouldn’t mean anything to him. It wouldn’t strike the usual fear in his opponents’ hearts. So instead he just applied more pressure, until the Quarian made a desperate squawking sound.  
  
“You will remember your manners when you speak to her again. Is that clear?” He eased off some of the pressure to allow the man to speak, and to alleviate some of the screaming pain in his wrist.  
  
“Or what?” Joh’Zolan rasped.  
  
“Or, I put a few punctures in your envirosuit and we see how well your immune system handles Andromedan bacteria.” He grinned, and it was a dark expression. “I’ve got good creds that say that doesn’t end well for you.”  
  
“You wouldn’t dare!”  
  
With immense effort, Reyes used the fingers of his right hand to call up his omniblade. He held the orange glowing weapon to the Pathfinder’s face. “We could always start the experiment now, if you’d prefer.” He stared hard into the two bright pinpricks of light in Joh’Zolan’s mask, the cold stare of the Charlatan. “Do we have an understanding?”  
  
A long moment ticked by, and Reyes counted it by the painful pulse thudding in his wrist.   
  
Finally, the Quarian nodded.   
  
“Good,” Reyes smiled, a much more cheerful one and then stepped back from the man. “I trust you can see yourself out?” He didn’t wait for the Pathfinder’s response before turning and walking away, back down to the biolab. He needed to take a painkiller and then get some ice on his wrist; he’d over done it, but it was worth it.   
  
What he hadn’t expected was to find Sara sitting at his terminal, spinning idly in his chair. When she looked up at him it was obvious she’d been crying.  
  
She smirked at him. “You and the Quarian Pathfinder have a nice chat?”  
  
He kept his expression neutral. He doubted she’d approve of him threatening someone who was supposed to be their ally. “We did,” he said. He approached the desk and reached for the pills with his right hand, out of habit. He hissed and switched hands, but Sara raised a sandy eyebrow at him.  
  
“What did you two talk about?”  
  
He glanced at her, and then knocked back the painkiller. “I was… curious about the dangers Andromeda poses to someone with no immune system.”  
  
She smiled. “Reyes.” His name on her lips was a song, one he hoped she would never stop singing. “Did you threaten the Quarian Pathfinder for me?”  
  
He looked at her, feigning shock. “Ryder,” he said with a smirk. “I would never do that.”


	18. Distracted Kisses/Love Me or Leave Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here's another tumblr prompt! Enjoy some fluff! I also used it for the ReyesVidalWeek, Prompt: Love Me or Leave Me.

Sara stood from her bed and yawned, her eyes closed. Reyes’ white t-shirt skimmed over the tops of her thighs, and she rolled her neck, her arms over her head and her breasts forward as she curved her back in a delicious stretch. She opened her eyes to see that Reyes hadn’t turned to watch her as she’d hoped. He was still glued to his omnitool where he sat on her couch.  
  
She pouted at the back of his head, his hair already combed into its typical perfection. She could smell the rich warmth of coffee, and he’d probably went to the galley to get a cup before he sat down to work. Which had been hours ago. He’d used the work as an excuse to let her sleep in, which she appreciated, but now she wanted his attention, before the day really needed to start and she had to be the Pathfinder again.  
  
She padded across the room, careful to keep her footsteps silent against the metal floor as she stepped up behind him, pressing her lips to his neck. “You missed quite the show,” she murmured.  
  
He stiffened, surprised at her sudden appearance behind him. “Oh?” He asked, his eyes still focused on his omnitool.  
  
“Yeah,” she whispered. She kissed her way up his neck, letting her lips linger at his jaw before she moved on to nibble at his ear.  
  
He tilted his head to the left, giving her more room to work with. “Do tell,” he breathed, but he kept his eyes on his work. He knew this game, and he was a damn good player.  
  
Breaking through Reyes’ considerable self-control was never easy. Sara smiled against his warm skin, and then let her tongue lathe a hot trail back up to his ear. He gasped and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, but his eyes never looked away from the constant stream of data and reports before him.  
  
It was never easy to break through his control, but it was always worth it.  
  
Her lips were at his ear again, her voice pitched low and still raspy with sleep. “Me, stretching,” she said. Her hand trailed down his bare chest, her fingers barely grazing across his skin. “In just your t-shirt.”  
  
He blinked, his head tilting back just enough to let her put her mouth to the fluttering pulse point at the bottom of his throat. And then he reasserted his control, scrolling through one screen to open a message on another.  
  
“That’s a shame,” he said. “Perhaps there will be a repeat performance?”  
  
She tisked, letting some of her actual disappointment through as she ran her hands back up his chest, letting her nails drag against him lightly. “One time only, I’m afraid” she said, shaking her head.  
  
He turned to her then, a smirk on his full lips and his amber eyes dark and heavy thanks to her attentions. “Oh, I guarantee there will be more than one.” His voice left no question in her mind that they were no longer talking about her ‘show’.  
  
She shivered as he captured her lips with his own, a low, pleased sound rumbling in his throat. He threw his omnitool down on the floor, and turned to help her climb over the back of the couch to straddle his hips. His hands snaked through her long hair, pulling her face closer to his, his tongue unrelenting as it delved through her lips.  
  
Sara rocked her hips against him, and he broke their kiss long enough to curse. She sat back to look at him, her lip caught between her teeth. “I win,” she said, grinning.  
  
He pulled her back to him, one hand on the small of her back, pressing her heat against his lap as his lips returned to hers. “If this is your idea of a consolation prize,” he breathed. “I’ll gladly keep losing.”


	19. Sara... Don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a fluffy little piece that I did as a prompt fill for blacksheep33512 on Tumblr, with corresponding artwork. Find the original art here: https://himluv.tumblr.com/post/163182454015/sara-dont

“This is my ark and these are my people!” Joh’Zolan barked over Scott as he outlined a plan for moving the Keelah Si’yah. Despite a tenuous truce and an agreement to work together, the Quarian Pathfinder was still almost impossible to get along with.  
  
Sara tensed beside Reyes, where they leaned against the railing on the ark’s bridge. He felt the muscles of her right arm clench where she brushed against him as she made a fist, and he knew she was close to breaking her careful composure.  
  
“Sara,” he whispered, low enough that only she would hear him over the Quarian’s temper tantrum. “Don’t.”  
  
She glanced at him, her bright blue eyes hard and angry, but she took a deep breath and crossed her arms, settling back against the rail again.   
  
“How do you do it?” She asked after a moment. Her voice was rough and stiff, her control an obvious effort.  
  
“Do what?” He asked, not looking away from the quickly dissolving professionalism between Joh’Zolan and her brother.  
  
“Lock down your emotions and keep that mask in place?”  
  
He glanced at her, worried somewhat. She wasn’t a fan of his role as the Charlatan, and it was something they were still ‘discussing’, something they still dealt with. But, perhaps now she saw some use for his skills?  
  
He smirked and let his left arm snake behind her to rest on the rail. From this angle it would seem a casual and confident stance, but no one else would see his hand on the small of her back, tracing teasing circles with his fingertips. She inhaled at his touch, but kept the pleasure from her face by scowling at the Pathfinder more.  
  
He kept his eyes on the conversation happening before them as he spoke to her. “It can be difficult,” he admitted. “Frustrating even.” His fingers continued with their idle patterns. “But, I stuff all that frustration away and save it,” he murmured, dropping the pitch of his voice. “For later.”  
  
She smirked, keeping her eyes forward. “That explains a lot.”  
  
He grinned. “I’m sure it does.”  
  
Scott’s sharp voice cut through the room, silencing the Quarian Pathfinder. Sara sighed, shaking her head. “You’re a lucky man, Vidal.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
She pushed away from the railing, breaking the small contact between them. “There’s going to be a lot of pent up frustration after today,” she promised, a wicked grin on her face.  
  
It took a conscious effort not to lick his lips. “I look forward to helping you relieve it, Pathfinder.”  
  
And then she stepped away to try and mediate the doomed negotiations, a confident sway to her hips he was certain she put there just for him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Who wants some fluff???

When Sara had suggested they watch her favorite movie, Reyes hadn’t realized she meant _Fleet and Flotilla_. He had never seen it, nor had he really ever wanted to; interspecies romance wasn’t exactly his preferred genre. But her enthusiasm for the film was infectious as she moved around the casita. She made popcorn, pouring it into a bowl for sharing before she dimmed the lights and joined him on the couch.  
  
As the film started Sara nestled under his arm, her head resting on his shoulder, and Reyes felt a strange twinge of something… peaceful. It was oddly domestic, sitting together on the couch, a plush angaran throw over her legs as they watched a vid together.   
  
“What?” She asked when she caught him staring at her.  
  
“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted.   
  
She raised a delicate eyebrow at him. “Watched a vid?”  
  
He snorted, pulling her tighter against his side. “I’ve watched plenty of vids,” he said. “But, never at my place with…” he trailed off. He still wasn’t sure how to refer to Sara. Calling her his lover sounded too dramatic, and somehow lurid. But calling her his girlfriend felt trite and incredibly lacking. She was his Sarita; he didn’t have a better term than that.  
  
She grinned at him. “Oh, no,” she said, her voice teasing. “Is the notorious Vidal suddenly feeling,” she gasped dramatically. “Domestic?”  
  
Reyes scowled at her and then palmed her head to turn her attention back to the screen. “Let’s just watch your damn movie,” he grumbled. She did as he suggested, but he didn’t miss the grin on her face.  
  
He had doubts about how much he’d like the movie, and had committed to watching it for her sake, but Sara’s dramatic recital of almost every line kept him plenty entertained.   
  
As the characters gave their impassioned speeches on the balcony, a soft snore pulled him from the vid. Reyes looked down to find Sara asleep, her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist. He smiled and committed her peaceful expression to his memories. No worries creased her brow, no fears set her eyes rolling behind shut lids, just soft, smooth skin, open and serene. Reyes was struck by how young she looked; it was easy to forget that the Pathfinder wasn’t yet twenty-five. But in that vulnerable moment she was young, innocent, and it made him desperate to protect her, to preserve these moments for her.   
  
Reyes sat up as the credits rolled by on the screen, carefully repositioning his Sarita so he could pick her up. She grumbled, her brow furrowing as he scooped her off of the couch.   
  
“Shh, Princesa,” he murmured. He cradled her to his chest and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. She nuzzled his cheek with her nose, humming softly, before letting her head rest against his shoulder once more.  
  
The gesture, so simple and natural for her, cracked at something deep within the Charlatan. To the galaxy she was determined, fierce, and not to be crossed. She was the Pathfinder. But with him she was soft and open, able to be herself when everyone would demand she become someone else in order to meet some invisible standard.  
  
As he carried her to their bed that overlooked one of the best views in the Badlands, Reyes whispered against her hair. They were sweet words, little nothings in all the languages he knew, and on their own they were meaningless. But, coupled with the warmth in his chest and the unrelenting desire to defend her against any threat, Reyes knew that the words meant so much more.  
  
After all, she was his Sarita.


	21. Double Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This little drabble was a prompt from the wonderful flight_feather and takes place in the future of Santa Sarita. Enjoy!

Sara leaned over the sink to get a closer look at her face in the mirror, her hand steady as she traced her upper eyelid with dark eyeliner. She liked the way her eyes looked when she actually bothered to wear makeup, somehow brighter blue and yet so much more vibrant green at the same time. Her faint freckles were smoothed away with a thin layer of foundation and powder, and her full lips, now in a round ‘o’ as she applied her eye makeup, were a deep shade of red.  
  
“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Reyes called from the other side of the shower curtain.  
  
“Because Vetra is my friend, and I love her,” she replied, not flinching in the slightest as he tore the curtain back to glare at her. She tried not to let her eyes wander over his reflection, but Reyes’ skin beaded with water and flush from the heat wasn’t something she could really ignore.  
  
He pouted at her in the mirror, his hands on his hips. “That explains why you agreed to go out with them,” he said, still dripping wet. “Not me.”  
  
Sara finished a delicate wingtip on her right eye, and compared to her left. Satisfied she set her pencil down and straightened up to look at his reflection. She smirked as his eyes roved over her, noticing and appreciating that she wore matching black bra and panties he’d selected for her.  
  
“Have you forgotten the terms of our agreement already?” She asked primly, reaching for her mascara. She felt his eyes on her in the mirror, but refused to meet them as she coated her long lashes in more dark liquid.  
  
His feet were silent as he stepped across the bathroom, but the movement in the mirror was warning enough. His left hand snaked out and stopped her from continuing her beautification, pulling her hand back as he pressed his hips against her ass, pinning her to the sink.  
  
His mouth was at her ear, and she felt the curve of his lips as he smiled at the small gasp his actions pulled from her throat. “Oh,” he whispered. “I haven’t forgotten,” he promised. He kissed the shell of her ear, his lips ghosting down to her jaw. “You are my Princesa,” he murmured. “And tonight, you will look like one.”  
  
She grinned at his reflection as that familiar heat coiled low in her belly. “Hopefully nothing too fancy,” she said. “This is Vetra and Laela we’re talking about.”  
  
Reyes shook his head. “That wasn’t the agreement, Ryder,” he said, stepping away from her. “The agreement was I pick your outfit, and you wear it.”  
  
“Within reason,” she added.  
  
He laughed. “This is a date! I would hardly want to embarrass you with something you were uncomfortable with.” He winked at her reflection and turned to leave the bathroom.  
  
She eyed him warily, but finished her mascara and then moved on to her hair. She’d never been very good at styling her hair, which was why she’d always kept it short. But now that it was so long, she found that learning new braids and buns was actually fun. Tonight she put the majority of her sandy brown hair up in a tight bun, a braided coil looped around the base, and carefully extricated strands left hanging for an effortless, yet messy effect.  
  
Satisfied, Sara left the room, and stopped in her tracks as she watched Reyes get dressed. His back was to her as he pulled on a bright white undershirt, and tucked it into his black dress pants. He turned to pick up his dress shirt, and caught her staring.  
  
“You can’t stand there all night, Princesa,” he teased. “We don’t want to be late for dinner.” He pulled on the shirt, fastening the asymmetrical buttons with ease.  
  
Sara sauntered toward him, a satisfied smile on her face when Reyes licked his lips. She reached up to straighten the tall, white-trimmed collar of the black shirt, leaning in to him with her body just a breath away. “That’s better,” she murmured, and then walked to her side of the bed where a large box waited for her.  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him as she read the shop name on the box. “Angaran?”  
  
“Just open it,” he grumbled.  
  
She sat on the bed, pulled the box into her lap, and opened it. The shimmering blue fabric inside made her gasp. The gown was made from a material she’d never seen before, a blue that rivaled the seas of Aya, with a texture like velvet though it was lightweight and twinkled in the light like diamonds had been sewn into it. Sara stood and pulled the dress from the box. It was cut with a high collar to match Reyes’ shirt, with a darker blue trim that trailed down until it forged a split in the skirt, pretty high on her thigh. It also had an almost completely open back, fastening at the back of her neck and beneath her rib cage.  
  
“Help me?” She asked as she eyed the dress, unsure of how best to climb into it.  
  
He grinned, but moved over to help her. “Seems only fitting,” he breathed against her neck as he fastened the clasp. “Considering the second half of our agreement.” He trailed his fingertips down the sensitive skin of her exposed back, humming with pleasure when he noticed the chill his touch brought to her flesh. He leaned against her, his hands on her hips. “I can’t wait to help you undress.”  
  
Reyes spun her in his arms, and then took a step back to look her over. Sara did her best to keep her cheeks cool and her gaze steady, but the heat in Reyes’ amber eyes as he took her in made her want to forget about dinner all together. But, she steeled herself, and stepped into the tall, strappy heels he had picked to go with her dress. She let her hand graze across his chest as she passed him, and was pleased when he growled softly.  
  
“Me either,” she promised, and then grinned at him. “But first, dinner.”


	22. Public Transit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is another #ReyesVidalWeeklyPrompt from the lovely flight_feather. Takes place directly after "Double Date". Enjoy!

Reyes Vidal was drunk. Not the heavy, oppressive drunk of all those lonely months in Kadara Port, but a warm, almost giddy suffusion of his senses. The stiff collar of his dress shirt had wilted some over the course of the evening, letting the stale breeze of recycled air under the thick fabric. The tram moved almost imperceptibly, but he was tipsy enough that the acceleration pulled him down onto one of the benches, and Sara followed after him with a soft giggle.  
  
“You’re drunk,” she accused, her lips at his ear.  
  
He scoffed, even as the lights of the tram seemed to swim above him. It was late, probably close to 1 a.m. Nexus Standard Time, and the tram was nearly empty. The few other passengers were easily forgotten when Sara’s hand ran up his chest.  
  
“You’re never drunk,” she said.  
  
“I’m always working,” he shrugged.  
  
She laughed. “Ah, yes,” she murmured. “The all-important three drink maximum.”  
  
He let his head fall back against the seat. “It has it’s benefits.”  
  
Sara’s hand trailed up to the opening of his collar, pulling the fabric aside so she could graze her teeth against the delicate skin of his throat. “I think you should let loose more often,” she whispered against his neck.  
  
“Oh?”  
  
She hummed in his ear. “You had fun, didn’t you?” She took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged gently.  
  
Reyes managed to turn his moan into a chuckle. “If this is the treatment I get, I’ll gladly go on more double dates.”   
  
Sara climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips as her arms crossed behind his neck. Her dress inched higher on her thighs, pulling his attention from the delicious pout on her lips. “Like I don’t treat you well already?”  
  
His hands grazed her legs, the feel of her smooth skin beneath his palms only intensifying the heat between them. “Now who’s the drunk one?” He didn’t mind the public display, in fact, he rather liked it. But Sara was never one for such flagrant sexuality.  
  
She snorted. “What? Is someone going to suggest we get a room?” She laughed. “I’m the fucking Pathfinder! If a little heavy petting on mass transit can’t be overlooked I am woefully under-appreciated.”  
  
“See?” He said. “That tells me you’re drunk. My Sarita would never abuse her power like that.”  
  
She grinned at him, her blue eyes glittering with mischief. She leaned down to whisper in his ear, grinding her hips against him as she did. “True,” she said. “But,” she paused to lean back, her face suddenly the picture of innocence as she bit her lip. “Our agreement was that I would make this evening worth your while.”  
  
He growled softly, one hand on her hip to keep her pressed against him as his right hand pulled her chin down to his. “Time spent with you is always worth while.”  
  
She rolled her eyes, but her grin told him just how good his words made her feel. He grinned up at her and she shook her head.  
  
“Just kiss me already,” she complained.  
  
Reyes chuckled. “As you command, Princesa.”  
  
He pulled her mouth down to his, and lavished in the sweetness of her. He knew they had an audience, and if he had one less drink at dinner he might have convinced himself to care. But as it was, he relished in Sara’s rare audacity and did his best to make the entire tram car jealous of him.   
  
And they should be jealous; because, even drunk, Sara Ryder, the Human Pathfinder, chose Reyes Vidal.


	23. I am Under no Obligation to Make Sense to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a dialogue prompt on Tumblr, and it takes place in the near future of Santa Sarita. Enjoy!

Sara tottered down the hall, giggling to herself. Reyes’ hands hovered at her waist, ready to catch her should her drunken legs finally decided to give out on her.  
  
“Remember that time you sent my brother a pie?” She laughed, bending over to hold her stomach. The change in trajectory would have led to her collapse if he hadn’t caught her in his arms.  
  
“Of course I do,” he said. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get a pie on such short notice?”  
  
“Do you have any idea how difficult it was not to steal his pie?” She stopped in front of him, and he nearly knocked her over. “Now I want pie?”  
  
“What is it with you two and pie when you’re drunk?”  
  
She laughed again and turned to face him. She walked backwards, and Reyes’ heart clenched every time her ankles wobbled in her heels. She grinned, her blue eyes bright with mischief. “Pie isn’t the only thing I want.” She reached for his belt, but Reyes caught her hand and spun her until her back was pressed to his chest.   
  
“You’re drunk,” he murmured at her ear.  
  
“So?” Her voice was full of defiance, of challenge. She rubbed against him, daring him to take what she offered. “You know you want it,” she purred.  
  
He chuckled as he unlocked the door and led her into their room. “Pie does sound good,” he admitted. He released his grip on her hand and she slumped onto the bed with an agitated huff.  
  
“You’re not making sense!” She fell back onto the duvet rewarding Reyes with a delightful view up her slinky blue dress.  
  
He laughed as he unbuttoned the stiff formal shirt he wore. “I am under no obligation to make sense to you,” he said.  
  
She groaned. “Now you’re using big words just to confuse me.”  
  
He let his shirt fall to the floor and kicked off his shoes before lying down beside her. He waited for her to look at him, but instead her brow furrowed and her breathing deepened. “You okay?”  
  
“The world is spinning.” She groaned again. “Why did you let me drink so much wine?”  
  
“Like I could stop you,” he said, but pressed the flat of his palm to her stomach to anchor her. “Besides,” he grinned, “if you can’t get trashed at your brother’s wedding, when can you?”  
  
She cracked an eye open at him. “At my own,” she she suggested.  
  
He laughed. “Are you proposing?”  
  
“Ugh,” she moaned and pushed his face away with one hand. “You’re impossible.”  
  
“Yes,” he agreed, sitting up. “Impossibly handsome and charming. And you,” he added. “Are impossibly drunk.”  
  
“True,” she groaned.   
  
He rubbed her thigh comfortingly. “Get undressed and I’ll bring you some water and a pain reliever.”  
  
“You’re the best,” she mumbled, already falling asleep.  
  
Reyes moved around the room, drinking water and taking a pill of his own. He was only slightly buzzed, but he was old enough that even the slightest hangover felt like death. He left the bathroom to bring Sara her water and pill, but paused to look at her. She’d managed to slide the dress off, though her bra, underwear, and heels were all still in place. Her hair was shorter now, freshly cut for the wedding, but it still splayed out around her head, framing her peaceful, slumbering face.  
  
As he watched her his chest blossomed with warmth, as if he’d just downed a shot of Kian’s best whiskey. Hungover or not, he knew tomorrow would be a good day, because his Sarita wanted to marry him. And that was more than enough happiness to weather any pain.


	24. We Need to Talk About Your Life Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another dialogue prompt from tumblr! Hope you enjoy it!

“Ryder,” Cora greeted as the Pathfinder entered the biolab.  
  
“You wanted to see me?” The Pathfinder tucked her short hair behind her right ear, revealing the purple tattoo on her cheek.  
  
Cora frowned. “We need to talk about your life choices.”  
  
Sara laughed, and the carefree sound only reminded Cora just how young the woman was. When the lieutenant didn’t join in her good humor, Ryder sobered.   
  
“Oh, shit,” she said. “You’re serious.”  
  
Cora sighed. “Look, I want to trust your judgment, but your decisions on Kadara give me,” she paused. “Pause,” she finished.  
  
The Pathfinder crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “You would have sided with Sloane.”  
  
The lieutenant shrugged. “Sloane was a known entity. She might have been a tyrant, but we could have dealt with that in time.” She sighed, “the Collective…”  
  
“The Collective helped pave the way for an Initiative outpost.” Sara raised an eyebrow at her. “Something I thought you’d be happy about.”  
  
“I am,” Cora promised. “I just hope that outpost doesn’t come with strings attached.”  
  
Sara scowled at her. Cora doubted the Pathfinder realized just how much the expression made her look like Alec.  
  
“Is you concern professional,” she asked. “Or personal?”  
  
The lieutenant sighed. “Both?” She shook her head. “You can’t possibly trust Vidal.”  
  
“He’s not as bad as you think.”  
  
“Maybe,” she conceded. “But, he might not be as good as you think, either.”  
  
Ryder ran a hand through her hair. “You’re making too big a deal out of this. Reyes is fun,” she said. “I like him well enough, but I won’t let It interfere with my work.”  
  
She wanted to argue, to point out to the younger woman all the ways she’d already let the smuggler interfere, but she could tell it would get her nowhere. Sara’s jaw was set, her teeth clenched, and her blue eyes cold and unwavering. She looked so much like her father in that moment that a sharp stab of grief lit up Cora’s chest like a lightning bolt.   
  
“All right, Ryder,” she said. “Just… be careful.” It was the only she could say that the Pathfinder would accept. But that didn’t keep the lieutenant from vowing to warp Vidal all the way back to Earth if he hurt the woman. She was Alec Ryder’s little girl, and Cora would defend her at any cost.


	25. We Shouldn't Be Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a prompt fill that ran away with me. I'm glad it did, I really like where it ended up. Hope you do too!

“We shouldn’t be here,” Sara whispered.   
  
Reyes put a finger to his lips, silently telling her to keep quiet. The smuggler was stealthy, but she could see the excitement in the slight flush of his cheeks. Or maybe it was the humidity.  
  
“Seriously, Reyes,” she continued. “If Evfra finds out we were here…” Really, the more she thought about it, the more she thought Parshaan Shie might be the bigger problem. Or the Moshae. Sara blanched at the thought, but allowed Reyes to pull her through the dense foliage of Aya’s jungle.  
  
The trees were stout, with thick trunks and broad branches that blocked out the sun. They walked along the faint trail, dodging whip-like branches and vines, the humid chill of the dense forest clinging to the skin her tank top left bare.   
  
“Where are you even taking me?” She asked as they clambered over a particularly large root structure.  
  
“It would hardly be a surprise if I told you,” he chided. “Plus, this way you can claim ignorance if we do get caught.” He said nothing more, but took her hand to help her down from the large, protruding root they climbed over. Once she was on the path again, he didn’t release her hand, but laced his fingers through hers to pull her along after him.  
  
They walked in silence, Sara trying not to let the looming fear of ruining the Initiative’s relationship with the angara just so her boyfriend could surprise her ruin said surprise. Reyes was careful, and all about control. He wouldn’t have brought her here if he thought there was any real risk. She hoped.  
  
The sound of rushing water was her first clue. Though the jungle was far from quiet, with giant tree limbs creaking in the wind, and the Ayan equivalent of birds calling to one another, the roar of the waterfall was loud. She gasped as the sound registered, and he looked back at her with a grin. Her trepidation fell away as they stepped out into the sun.  
  
The waterfall fell into a large, blue pool that trickled off in multiple directions via streams and creeks. The tree line grew into the water on one side, providing shade, while the rest of the pool was ringed in large river rock, except for one spot that had worn down into pale white sand. It was there that a familiar aqua and purple blanket was laid out with snacks and drinks waiting for them.  
  
She spun to face Reyes, who had fallen back to observe her reaction to his surprise. “How did you…?”  
  
He grinned. “I called in a few favors,” he said. He led her to the blanket, and then kicked off his shoes. His t-shirt went next, followed by his pants, until he wore just the black boxer briefs Sara loved so much. “The spot is ours today,” he said. “We won’t be disturbed.”  
  
That was all she needed to hear. Sara stripped down, pausing as she reached back to unclasp her bra. “You’re certain it’ll just be the two of us?”  
  
He raised a dark eyebrow at her. “You think I’d go through all of this and not be sure to have you all to myself?”  
  
His words raised the hairs on the back of her neck and she unhooked her bra. She dropped it to the blanket, then stepped out of her underwear as Reyes did the same. She watched him, enjoying the view, and then asked the question that bounced around her mind relentlessly.   
  
“What’s the occasion?”  
  
He shrugged. “No occasion,” he said. “With Scott and Gil on their honeymoon we could use a small vacation of our own.” He glanced at her and smirked. “And I know how much you like skinny dipping.”  
  
Sara groaned. “That was one time, when I was sixteen!”  
  
“And yet, here you are, completely bereft of clothes.”  
  
She rolled her eyes at his grin, but couldn’t fight a smile of her own. She took his hand and led him to a rock that jutted out over the water. The sun warmed the dark stone, and its heat on the soles of her feet felt so good that she wasn’t sure she even wanted to get in the water. It had been so long since her skin had felt the heat of the sun, so many months spent holed up on her ship or bounding from office to office to deal with finicky officials. She sighed. Reyes was right; she needed this.  
  
She leaned in to him, kissing his jawline, and he hummed appreciatively. “Thank you,” she murmured. “And, I’m sorry.”  
  
“Wha-”  
  
Sara pressed both hands to his bare chest and shoved him off the rock and into the pool. She laughed as he spluttered, cursing her in Spanish. He lunged for her, trying to pull her in, but Sara dove over him. The water was cool and the shock of it stole her breath. She broke the surface with a gasp, then cried out when she heard Reyes swimming after her. She laughed and they splashed at each other as she led him on a chase around the pool.  
  
She’d always been a strong swimmer, she could have easily kept out of his reach, but it was so much more fun to be caught. She headed to the sandy shore but once her feet found the bottom she waited for him to catch up.  
  
Reyes practically collided with her. His hands latched onto her hips, lifting her with ease to wrap her legs around his waist. She gripped his shoulders and dropped her mouth to his, eager to taste him after all the built up anticipation of the day. He carried her from the water, his mouth focused on her neck until he they lay down, dripping on the blanket.  
  
He murmured against the skin of her neck, then her collarbone, then her sternum as he trailed down her body, his hands roving in contrast with the determined path of his lips. As his mouth wound its way even further south, Sara’s eyes closed and her vision flashed white behind her eyelids to match the glow of the sun above her.  
  
Reyes was right; she _really_ needed this.  
  
  
  


He watched her lay on the blanket, the one he’d picked out just for her when he’d built the casita, and tried to settle his nerves. She was perfect. He always thought so, but in this moment he’d finally convinced her that she should feel that way too. The breeze was gentle, and now that they were dry it was sweet relief from the Ayan sun. It played with her still damp hair that was so much shorter than he’d grown accustomed to. Not that it mattered, her hair had been even shorter when they first met.   
  
This moment, sunbathing and dozing in the sun, relaxed and sated, was perfect. He wasn’t sure he could orchestrate one better, which meant there was no time like the present.  
  
He fumbled through his pant pockets, still piled on the sand, until he found what he was looking for. He stared at the delicate silver band for a second. It was simple, unadorned save for the subtle wave pattern engraved on the outside to match her family ring.   
  
Looking at it, he suddenly felt foolish. He wasn’t even sure she really wanted to get married, it wasn’t something they’d talked about in any certain terms. There’d been plenty of talk about someday and after she was done being the Pathfinder, but his time on the Tempest with her had proved to him that they couldn’t count on time being there for them. If she was willing, he wanted to take advantage of the time they did have.  
  
He swallowed down the anxiety that clawed at his throat and settled down beside her. Instinctively she turned so that her back pressed to his chest, and she hummed happily as his arm draped over her side. He held the ring out in her line of sight, but she didn’t react.  
  
“Sara,” he whispered against her ear. His voice shook, but he ignored it. “Open your eyes.”  
  
Her body tensed against him, and her breath caught in her throat. Even he stopped breathing as he waited for her reaction. She didn’t say anything for a long moment, but her breathing picked up, and he heard the distinct sniffling sounds of her crying.  
  
“I don’t want to rush you,” he stammered. “I don’t know what you want, but this doesn’t have to mean anything more than you want it to.”  
  
“Absolutely not,” she said through her tears.  
  
Reyes’ heart plummeted. He’d had his doubts, but he definitely hadn’t expected outright rejection. “What?”  
  
She took the ring from him with shaking fingers and slid it into place on her left hand. Then she rolled in his arms to face him. “You are not talking your way out of this one,” she said. Her blue eyes were so bright, and the green centers seemed to glow through her tears as she stared up at him, waiting for him to continue.  
  
He cleared his throat, struggling to regain some sort of composure. “Sara Artemis Ryder,” he breathed. “Will you-”  
  
“Yes!” The word bubbled out of her as she nodded, and he was so relieved that she’d interrupted him that he didn’t even argue when her mouth met his. They kissed, lying together under the Ayan sun, the wind rustling the trees as the waterfall roared behind them. It was perfect, there was no way Reyes could have planned a better moment.  
  
And then she slapped his chest.  
  
“You said there was no occasion!” She glared up at him, though her eyes still sparkled with unbridled joy.  
  
He grinned at her, his own heart feeling suddenly buoyant in his chest. “I lied.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ugh. It's just so happy. Gives me warm fuzzies all over again.


	26. "Stop Saying Things that Make Me Want to Kiss You"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a dialogue prompt, probably from Blacksheep33512, and it was the nail in my coffin. I wanted to let the Mistborn AU go, I wanted to move on with my life. But it wouldn't let me go. This prompt fill was evidence of that. So, consider this a sneak peek of the full length story I wrote last NaNoWriMo. This glimpse is rough, from the days when The Charlatan and the Coinshot was just an idea, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Hopefully you'll get to read the whole thing sometime soon.

“Reyes Vidal,” Sara drawled, removing that ridiculous bowler hat she was so fond of. “Fancy meeting you here.”  
  
Reyes rolled his eyes as she climbed onto the stool beside him. She knew damn well that Tartarus was his favorite bar in the port. He took a long pull on his whiskey before he inclined his head to her.   
  
“Pathfinder,” he said.  
  
She frowned. “I told you not to call me that.”  
  
He shrugged, focusing on his drink. “Then you might want to consider removing that patch.” He shot a glance at the embroidered logo on the left lapel of her leather mistcoat.  
  
Her eyes dropped to the bar and her voice went quiet. “I can’t do that.”  
  
Reyes suppressed a sigh; she’d shut down on him the last time he’d brought up the Pathfinder symbol. He’d hoped to get more from her this time, but the woman seemed determined to keep her secrets. Maybe that was what he found so fascinating about her. He watched her surreptitiously from behind his glass, noting the pained expression in her bright blue-green eyes.  
  
“You wanted to talk to me?” He asked, changing the subject from whatever haunted her thoughts.  
  
She nodded, and waved to the bartender. She ordered a beer, and didn’t bother to get a glass; she drank it straight from the bottle. Reyes arched an eyebrow at her. First whiskey and now this? It might be more than just her secrets that had caught his attention.  
  
She let out a satisfied sigh after her first chug of the ale and leaned in closer to him. “Have anywhere a bit more… private?”  
  
Reyes let a lazy grin claim his face. “Why, Ryder,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were interested.”  
  
She blushed, but didn’t look away from him. “Oh, I’m interested,” she said. She let out a small smirk of her own. “In learning more about Kadara Port.”  
  
Reyes groaned, but nodded his head toward the stairs. “Follow me.” Ryder fumbled through her over-sized coat to pay the bartender, but Reyes stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Allow me,” he said. He caught Kian’s eye and nodded his head at Ryder. The bartender nodded, and then Reyes led the woman up the stairs to the private room he rented.  
  
The door creaked as he opened it and gestured for Sara to enter before him. He followed her through and shut the door behind them. She stood in the center of the room and spun once, letting out a low whistle.  
  
“Nice place you got here,” she said, smiling.  
  
Reyes snorted. The room was nothing much to look at. A sofa and coffee table along one wall, a writing desk with neat stacks of papers adjacent to that, and a pull-down bed that he’d forgotten to put up this morning on the far wall. But, what it lacked in aesthetics it made up for in utility. He even had his own private washroom! He sat on the couch and poured himself another glass of whiskey from the bottle on the table.  
  
“What did you want to know?” He offered her a glass, but she declined, raising her beer in a silent cheers.  
  
“What the hell happened here?” She asked after they took a drink.  
  
He shrugged, settling back into the sofa to watch her pace. “Typical Roughs power struggle bullshit.”  
  
“Sloane’s operation doesn’t seem like your typical outlaw gang,” she said.  
  
Ryder was smarter than she looked. He knew then that this woman could cause him real trouble if he didn’t handle her with care, Pathfinder or not. Time to give her a dose of truth.  
  
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her,” he said carefully. “She used to be head of security at Nexus HQ.”  
  
Blue eyes darted over at him. “She must have been before my time,” she said.  
  
He tucked that piece of information away. He took another sip of his drink then leaned forward to set the glass down. “You’ve heard of the Kett?”  
  
She scowled at him. “Of course I have,” she said. “They’re the biggest outlaw gang in the Roughs.”  
  
“Well, they were terrorizing the locals,” he said.   
  
“The Angara.”  
  
He nodded. “They built this port and the Kett decided they wanted it for their own. Then, last year, Sloane rode in with her men and ousted the Kett.”  
  
“Awfully kind of her,” Ryder said, sarcasm coloring her words.  
  
“Oh,” Reyes smiled. “Sloane was more than happy to help the angara, for a price.”  
  
“She swooped in and saved the day so she could take over the town.” Sara paced in front of the coffee table a few more times. “Opportunistic bitch,” she spat.  
  
Reyes laughed. “You have got to stop doing that.”  
  
She stopped to look at him. “Doing what?”  
  
“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.” The words were out before he had time to consider them. She blinked at him a moment, and then blushed a shade of pink so bright he would have laughed if he wasn’t so shocked.   
  
“Where does the Collective fit in with all of this?” She asked as she continued pacing.  
  
His gut clenched, but he kept the tension off his face. He shrugged. “They’re a relatively new organization, opposed to Sloane in every way.”  
  
She nodded. “And no one knows who their leader is.”  
  
He shook his head. “Whoever it is, they are extremely careful with their identity. All anyone knows is that the agents call them The Charlatan.”  
  
Sara snorted, and Reyes blinked at her. “So dramatic,” she said.  
  
“A little drama can go a long way,” he said. He shouldn’t have, he knew, but it was so hard not to defend himself to her. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a building desire to impress her, to be in her good graces. A dangerous woman indeed.  
  
She eyed him for a moment. “You’re in favor of them?”  
  
He shrugged again. “I’m in favor of cooperating with the angara instead of stealing from them and treating them like second class citizens. I’m not in favor of Sloane charging protection fees to live in the nicer neighborhoods.”  
  
Sara nodded. “She does seem a bit tyrannical.”  
  
He chuckled. “There you go again,” he said.  
  
She smirked at him, then knocked back the last of her beer. She set the empty bottle on the table, the closest she’d come to him since they’d entered his room. “Thanks for the beer, Vidal.”  
  
“Anytime, Ryder,” he said, and he was surprised to find he meant it.  
  
She watched him carefully, taking his measure, and then nodded. “I’ll see you around.”  
  
“I look forward to it,” he said.   
  
She blushed again, and left the room.  
  
Reyes sighed and poured a fresh glass of whiskey. He downed it in one go, hissing as he returned the glass to the table. “Rust and Ruin,” he cursed. “I’m in trouble."


	27. Throwback Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi all! This is a totally spoiler-free short story from the future of Santa Sarita. I wrote it to fulfill the "Throwback Halloween" prompt for ME Halloween 2017 on tumblr. Hope you enjoy it!

Reyes stared at the invitation , at once confused and intrigued.  
  
  


> _To: Reyes Vidal_   
>  _From: Sara Ryder_   
>    
> 
> 
> _If you could be anyone or anything for one night, who/what would you be?_   
>  _10/31/2821_   
>    
>    
> 

Attached were coordinates for a club on Meridian. He read the message half a dozen times in quick succession, trying to guess what his girlfriend was up to. They’d arrived back in Heleus only three weeks ago, but they’d been apart almost the entire time. Sara had Initiative bureaucracy to contend with, and Reyes had his leak in the Collective. Interrogating Meritus had proved exhausting and highly unpleasant. Reyes could use a distraction.  
  
He was familiar with the Halloween tradition, although his devout family had never celebrated the holiday. After they died, his two years with a mercenary gang, and another six years with the Alliance hadn’t really offered many opportunities to play dress up.   
  
But, this was only Meridian’s second Halloween, and now that the majority of the human colonists called it home, it was bound to be a night to remember.  
  
He reclined into his sofa in the room on the upper level of Tartarus and pulled up his omnitool. He needed to do some research on the club and its planned festivities.   
  
“Throwback Halloween,” he read aloud. The club was hosting a costume party, and the theme was 20th Century Earth.  
  
  


> _To: Sara Ryder_   
>  _From: Reyes Vidal_
> 
>   
>  _And who would you be? I’d like to coordinate._

  
  
Her reply was almost instantaneous. It was just like her to be so excited about something like this, and the thought of her messaging him, a grin on her face, made his chest tighten with longing. After so many months together on the Tempest, these past weeks without her had been hard.  
  
  


> _To: Reyes Vidal_   
>  _From: Sara Ryder_
> 
>   
>  _This is your only hint: “Someone has to save our skins! Into the garbage chute, fly boy!”_   
>    
>    
> 

Reyes grinned. He’d have to do some research; the party was only two weeks away, but he could work with that.  
  
  
  


The music thundered through the bar, bass thumping in some electronic dance song he didn’t recognize. The amount of bodies, all in strange, archaic costumes actually gave him pause. He hadn’t been in a bar that crowded since the night before the Nexus had left the Milky Way. Out of nervous habit his hand dropped to the pistol holstered at his hip. He took comfort in its familiar weight, and took a deep, settling breath.  
  
He waded through the crowd, his old habits taking over as he let the undulating bodies direct him to where he wanted to be. As he moved he searched the crowd for his Princesa. There were a lot of variations o their costumes, and though he saw a number of rebel princesses in flowing white robes, none of them wore it was well as he was sure his Sarita did.  
  
He approached the crowded bar and noticed Scott first. The younger Ryder twin wore a pale beige tunic with a thick leather belt. His pants were only slightly darker than his shirt, and his tall, knee high boots were a deep tan color. The hilt of a plastic lightsaber hung from his hip. Beside him stood someone in all black, a long cape flowing from his shoulders and a blocky black helmet on his head.   
  
Reyes sidled up to the pair, resting his elbows on the bar. “Haven’t seen your twin around lately, have you Luke?”  
  
Scott turned and grinned as he took in Reyes’ costume. “Sara is gonna flip,” he shouted over the music.  
  
“Oh! That’s just perfect,” Darth Vader said. Though the mask deepened his voice and added the trademark respirator sound, Reyes could tell it was Gil underneath the helmet.  
  
He grinned at them both before turning his attention back to the bar to flag down the bartender. He ordered a glass of their best whiskey and only once it was safely in hand did he turn to face the dance floor, leaning casually with his elbows on the bar-top.  
  
“So, where’s he princess?”  
  
Scott shrugged. “Last I saw she was dancing with Peebee.”  
  
“Please tell me she’s a twi’lek!”  
  
Gil leaned over Scott’s shoulder to yell, “her and Jaal both!”  
  
Reyes let out a full belly laugh before knocking back his drink. He clapped Scott on the shoulder. “I’m off to find Leia.”  
  
“Good luck,” her twin shouted as Reyes moved off toward the dance floor.  
  
He waded through the crowd once more, feeling more at ease thanks to the whiskey. But, one glass of fine whiskey wasn’t nearly enough to keep him from reaching for his gun when a hand gripped his shoulder.  
  
“Han!” Liam shouted over the din. Reyes spun to look at the man, and burst out laughing. Liam wore the flat blue uniform and cape of Lando Calrissian. Because, of course he would want to be Lando. “Lookin’ for Leia?”  
  
Reyes nodded.   
  
“Look for the Wookie,” he said.   
  
“Did she get everyone to participate?”  
  
“Pretty much!” Liam grinned. “Even Suvi and Kallo are the droids!”  
  
Reyes shook his head in awe of his girlfriend’s power of persuasion, and moved further into the crowd as Liam attached himself to a new dance partner. As the crowd jostled him, ebbing and flowing with the music like an angry sea, Reyes kept his eyes at the top of the crowd. Sure enough, after a few moments of drifting, he saw a furry brown head standing about a foot above the rest of the dancers.  
  
He made his way slowly, not forcing his way through even though the urge to lay eyes on Sara was nearly overwhelming him. Three weeks was too long, even after months together after a year apart, three weeks was a painfully long time to go without hearing her laugh, or seeing the way her blue eyes sparkled brighter green when they were on him.  
  
The crowd parted as the Wookie’s dance moves got a little wilder, and at the center of it all was Peebee, Jaal, and Sara, laughing as they danced in a circle. Reyes kept back, prowling through the crowd to keep Sara in sight as he enjoyed the sight of her.  
  
She wore the expected flowing white robes, her long pale brown hair pulled up into the iconic buns and braid. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the heat of dancing, the force of her laughter, or alcohol, he couldn’t be sure. Probably a mixture of all three. Her outfit was modest, much more so than the other Leias in the club, but hers was much more accurate. Besides, Reyes didn’t need to see her skin to know what perfection lay in wait underneath the robes.  
  
The song reached a crescendo, paused, and then dropped into an even more intense beat. Sara whooped and let the music move through her, her arms above her head as she twirled, the robes flaring out, revealing tall white boots and soft skin. Her head bounced back and forth before falling back. Reyes caught a glimpse of her face, and saw her pull at her lip with her teeth. With her eyes closed, moving to the relentless beat of the music, he knew he couldn’t stay away from her any longer.  
  
He wove through the crowd, ducked behind the Wookie, who he had a sneaking suspicion was Vetra, and pressed himself flush to Sara’s back, his hands on her hips and his lips at her ear.  
  
“Waiting for someone?” he said.  
  
She stilled against him, and then spun his arms, launching herself at him.  
  
He caught her with a huff, and when one leg clung to his hip he obliged her by lifting her up to wrap her legs around him. Her mouth was on his, and he knew now that alcohol had a least a little to do with her demeanor; he tasted the sugary sweetness of the mixed drinks, which she preferred at social gatherings, on her tongue. But, that didn’t matter just then, all that mattered was that she was there, in his arms once more, and that she had obviously missed him as much as he had missed her.  
  
“Get a room!” Peebee shouted  
  
Sara untangled one arm from around Reyes’ neck to give the asari her middle finger, but never took her mouth from his. Finally, he broke the kiss, and once his panting breaths had settled, he chuckled against her lips.  
  
“Miss me?”  
  
She groaned, and her legs tightened around his waist. “You have no idea.”  
  
He caught her bottom lip in his teeth, and his fingers dug into her shoulder blades. “I have some idea,” he promised.   
  
The song changed and Sara perked up. “I love this song!” She wriggled against him, and it took Reyes a moment to realize she was trying to get down. He released her, and she immediately started dancing, even more fervently than before. Reyes grinned and joined her; it wasn’t often they had the liberty of drinking and dancing the night away.  
  
After the track ended she turned to him and gave him a critical glance. Black pants, white shirt, those had been easy to find. Even the old-school hip holster had been relatively easy to come by. But the tall black boots and the vest? Those had been a bitch, which meant they’d been expensive.   
  
“You look amazing,” she said. “I was worried my hint wasn’t clear enough.”  
  
He shook his head. “It was perfect!” He looked around the club, spotting Kallo as C-3PO, Suvi in a cute dress that looked like R2D2, and even Lexi in an Obi Wan Kenobi costume. The three were lounging in a large booth, probably reserved for the Pathfinder and her entourage. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Scott and Gil arrived, joining the less energetic members of their group.  
  
Another dance song started and the Wookie reappeared from a short jaunt through the roiling crowd, pausing to dance with a quarian in a black hooded robe. Then the pair moved off to join the others in the booth. Sure enough, Vetra appeared from under the large, furry mask looking more than a bit tipsy herself. Scott said something to her, and the whole booth laughed.   
  
He looked back to Sara to find her grinning up at him. “Wanna get out of here?” She called over the song.  
  
His smile took on something predatory as he nodded. Keema had promised him his apartment had been maintained in his absence, and it was only a few minutes walk from the club. He took her hand and led the way out of the bar, not missing the cheers and jeers from their friends.  
  
Sara giggled as they met with fresh, cool air once they were outside. She pulled up her white hood, then linked her arm through his. She had to hurry to keep up with his brisk pace, her boots clicking on the metal walkways. She paused slightly as he punched in the code to unlock his door.  
  
“This is your place?” She asked.  
  
He nodded. “On Meridian, at least.” He pulled her into the flat after him, and wasted no time pinning her to the door. His mouth couldn’t get enough of her, he couldn’t seem to sate his tongue’s desire to taste her skin, no matter how much of it he peppered in feathery kisses or long swathes of wet heat.   
  
She gasped and her fingers coiled in his hair. Then she pulled his face up to look at hers. Her skin was flushed, more from his attentions now than any effect of the alcohol, and her eyes were bright and clear. “I love you, Reyes,” she whispered.  
  
He blinked at her for a moment, absorbing the words. Though she’d said them before, they still seemed so unreal to him. Then he smirked at her.  
  
“I know.”


	28. Under Her Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is another ME Halloween prompt fill. This little story takes place before Sara and Reyes started dating. Enjoy!

Reyes watched Ryder hurry off, no doubt in a rush to free Vehn Terev and secure her alliance with Evfra. Despite her sarcastic tone and sharp wit, the Pathfinder was eager to please.  
  
He groaned as his train of thought completely derailed, scrubbed at his face, and then started his long walk down to Tartarus. He liked to take a circuitous route, browsing through the market, listening to the idle chit-chat of the general populace. He needed a finger on the pulse of the Port, and there was no better method than spending an hour or two with the masses.  
  
But, it seemed he wasn’t the only one caught up by the Pathfinder’s arrival in Kadara Port.  
  
“Did you see her?” An asari shopper asked a salarian merchant.  
  
He nodded. “Not what I expected,” the clipped voice replied. “Small, unassuming… smiling.” The salarian blinked, as if perplexed by Ryder’s good humor.  
  
Reyes moved on, opting to lean against a shipping crate just within earshot of a pair of angara.  
  
“They say she saved the Moshae,” the first said.  
  
“Why would she do that?” The second asked. “The Milky Way aliens don’t care about us. She must want something in return.”  
  
The first shook her head. “She even has an angara on her team.”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Jaal ama Derav.”  
  
Stunned silence followed and Reyes made a note on his omnitool to look into this Jaal’s history.  
  
“Do you think she’d help us?” The second angara wondered out loud.  
  
The first shrugged. “If anyone could rein in Sloane, it’d be her.”  
  
His sentiments exactly. Reyes moved on, his mind spinning with possibilities. The Pathfinder had the people of the Port spellbound, and if he played his cards right he could use that to his advantage. He smirked to himself and made his way to the lift to the slums.

  
  
  
Less than two hours later his omnitool pinged. Vehn Terev was safely in the hands of the Resistance. Ryder was as good as her word, if not better, and Evfra was grudgingly pleased. Reyes was impressed; the Pathfinder has forced her way into Evfra’s good graces in less than a month, and that was no easy feat.  
  
His omnitool pinged again, this time a note from Kian.  
  


 

> _To: Reyes Vidal_  
>  _From: Kian Dahger_  
>    
>  _Pathfinder inbound._  
>    
> 

Reyes told himself that his smile was in anticipation of manipulating Ryder into his plans. That he was excited to finally have the missing piece to the puzzle that was overthrowing Sloane. Using Ryder was a risk, sure, but the potential payout was well worth it.  
  
That was the reason why his stomach flipped when the door opened, and his grin spread from ear to ear as she appeared. He was excited to put his plan into motion and finally be someone.  
  
It had absolutely nothing to do with the sparkle in her blue-green eyes when she saw him, or the mischievous tilt of her lips as she looked him up and down. And it definitely wasn’t caused by the tantalizing way she cocked her hip, crossed her arms, and raised a sandy eyebrow at him.  
  
_Ah, shit_ , he thought. Even he wasn’t safe from Ryder’s charms. He would have to be more careful going forward, or he just might find himself in a similar situation as all the others who interacted with Sara Ryder; firmly under her spell.


	29. Every Halloween Needs a Pumpkin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello! I promise I haven't forgotten about you all. I'm hard at work on the next and FINAL installment of Santa Sarita. Until I can post the first chapter, enjoy another tumblr prompt from Halloween!

“We’ve been in Heleus for over two years,” Reyes snapped at the vidcall on his omnitool. “You’re telling me no one has pumpkins?”  
  
“Unless the Initiative is hoarding squash, then yeah, there’s no pumpkins.”  
  
Reyes bristled, but held back the dark fury that bubbled up at his contact’s tone. The turian didn’t know who he was dealing with, didn’t know him as anything other than a successful smuggler based out of Kadara Port. And that was for the best, even if it meant he got sassed from time to time.  
  
He growled with frustration and rubbed his left hand over his face. “Does anyone have anything pumpkin like?”  
  
“How do you mean? Flavor, shape, consistency?” The turians sub-harmonics pitched higher, a breathy sort of chuckle. “Not that I can attest to the flavor of anything you humans eat.”  
  
“Shape and consistency,” he said. “My client wants them for a traditional human celebration. We carve faces into them.” The smuggler didn’t need to know there was no client, since it’d be a little strange if Vidal the Smuggler was so desperately seeking out pumpkins for himself. But he also didn’t want to be connected to Ryder too publicly if he could avoid it.  
  
The turian was silent for a moment. “Fuck, you humans are weird.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, save me the diversity speech and please tell me you’ve got something up your sleeve.”  
  
“Angara have some strange fruit varietals. I’ll see if anything checks the boxes for carving faces into them.” He made a disbelieving sound under his breath. “I’m en route to Aya now, should have word for you in twelve hours or so.”  
  
Reyes sighed. “Appreciate it.” He disconnected the call just as Sara stepped into the biolab.  
  
She leaned in the doorway and sized him up with bright blue eyes. “Everything okay?” She finally asked, stepping into the room.  
  
He nodded, but didn’t bother hiding his weariness from her. “Trying to acquire some contraband for a particularly finicky client. It’s not going well.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know you were still smuggling.”  
  
He shrugged. “We’re back in Heleus, and now that the Tempest is primarily a science vessel, I’ve got some time on my hands.”  
  
She considered him for a moment, as if weighing his words to judge their truthfulness. He wasn’t lying, at least, not exactly. Now that archeology was Sara’s primary focus, he did have more time on his hands. Intel on the Jardaan, while fascinating, wasn’t exactly lucrative. When a few clients reached out to him, he was happy to fill their requests; it kept him busy and offered an income source separate from the Collective.  
  
She was just the particularly finicky client, and she didn’t even know it. Sara loved Halloween, even more than Christmas, and she’d lamented the lack of pumpkins to decorate with last year. So, this year, Reyes was going to do his best to remedy that.  
  
If he could.  
  
She walked over to him, and bent to press her chest against his back, her arms wrapping around his torso. “I know something that can take your mind off your problems.”  
  
Reyes smirked and spun his chair to face her. “Oh? What did you have in mind, Pathfinder?”  
  
When she dropped to her knees in front of him, he had to admit, he was surprised, and suddenly even more determined to find at least one fucking pumpkin for his Princesa.  
  
  


It was late in the Tempest’s night cycle when Reyes’ omnitool beeped, announcing a new message. Carefully he extricated his limbs from Sara’s and padded over the the sofa to read the message.  


> _To: Reyes Vidal_  
>  _From: Merixus_  
> 
> 
> _Angara lead is a no go. Hate to say it, but you might not be able to swing this one, Vidal._  
> 

Reyes snarled at the email. If Merixus couldn’t find a single pumpkin, or even a passable pumpkin substitute, then he may very well be shit out of luck. But, there was one other contact he could try. He left the room on silent feet and stepped into the galley. He made the call and held his breath.  
  
Vetra’s face flickered into life, even more avian in the orange cast of his omnitool.  
  
“Reyes?” She said, blinking. Shit, he hadn’t even considered that it might be an ungodly hour for her too. “What’s wrong? Is Ryder okay?”  
  
“She’s fine,” he soothed. “She’s asleep.”  
  
Vetra’s mandibles clicked sharply. “So was I.”  
  
He winced. “Sorry about that, but I need a favor.”  
  
She blinked at him with wary eyes. “What kind of favor?”  
  
He briefly explained the Halloween tradition of Jack-o-lanterns and Sara’s deep-seated desire to carve on this year.  
  
Vetra stared at him. “You carve faces into fruit?”  
  
Reyes dropped his head into his left hand. “Christ, why is this so hard for turians?” He mumbled. Louder, he said, “Merixus had no luck.”  
  
Vetra snorted. “Merixus was lucky to find his way out of the nest. Plus,” she smiled, “he doesn’t have the Initiative contacts I do.” She sighed. “Give me two days. I should have something for you by  
then.”  
  
“Thank you, Nyx,” he breathed. “You’re a life saver.”  
  
“Don’t thank me yet,” she growled.  
  
“I have faith in you.”  
  
She smiled, and her mandibles flared with pride. “By the way,” she drawled. “We got your invitation.”  
  
“And?”  
  
She nodded. “We’ll be there. Goodnight, Reyes.” She ended the call, not giving him the opportunity to bid her goodnight as well, which he figured was fair. He felt hopeful again now that Vetra was on the job. If anyone could find a supposedly non-existent fruit, it was Vetra Nyx.  
  
  


Two days later, in the middle of lunch, Vetra called.  
  
“Talk to me,” he answered.  
  
“I found your pumpkins.”  
  
He dropped his fork onto his plate. “You’re shitting me.”  
  
“So much for faith,” she said. “There was an unauthorized patch about two clicks south of Prodromos.”  
  
“Illegal pumpkins?”  
  
She shrugged. “You humans are crazy about your squash apparently.”  
  
He nodded, and then frowned. “So why don’t you sound happy?”  
  
She grimaced. “We were outbid.”  
  
“How is that possible?” Reyes had approved the use of extreme amounts of money to obtain at least two pumpkins.  
  
“Someone bought the entire patch, sight unseen, for much more than the going price.”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Not sure, but I’ve got a contact who might.” She looked away from the screen to tap a command into her omnitool. “Forwarding you the details now.”  
  
He nodded as his omnitool vibrated against his wrist. “Thanks, Vetra.”  
  
“Good luck, Vidal,” she said, and then ended the call.  
  
  


It took some digging and Vidal the Smuggler suddenly owed a lot of people a favor or two, but he finally had an omnitool frequency for the buyer who’d outbid him. He dialed it, mentally preparing the lines he’d use to convince this person to sell him two fucking pumpkins.  
  
An angaran face greeted him, wide eyes narrowed in suspicion. He knew that face.  
  
“Keema?”  
  
“Reyes?”  
  
They stared at each other for a moment and then Reyes cursed. “You’re the one that bought all the pumpkins?”  
  
At the same time, Keema asked, “how’d you get this frequency?”  
  
He sighed. “Vetra knew a guy who knew a guy. Eventually I rooted out the frequency of the buyer.” He glared at her image on his omnitool. “And it’s you.”  
  
Keema laughed, a bright sound that bubbled up from her to sound exactly how you imagined it would. “You told me to get decorations for the party, did you not?”  
  
“An entire pumpkin patch, Keema?”  
  
She shrugged, large eyes glittering with mirth. “I hear Ryder really likes this Halloween; I spared no expense. As you ordered.”  
  
Reyes growled in frustration. “We’ll be in the Port in two days. Se two pumpkins aside for us.”  
  
“Of course,” Keema purred. “Whatever for?”  
  
“She still doesn’t know about the party, so I want to do a little something on the Tempest.” He shrugged. “We’ll carve them.”  
  
Keema blinked at him, her large eyes owlish as they watched him. “You'll… what?”


	30. The Derelict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was another ME Halloween prompt, and is a sneak peek at some of the events in Sanctuary! Enjoy!

Sara stepped onto the derelict ship and knew that she’d made a terrible mistake. Her stomach dropped, her pulse raced, and her grip tightened on her Equalizer.

“This is bad, Ryder,” Reyes said from behind her. The lights flickered twice and then went out.

“Very bad,” her brother agreed.

In unison they activated the flashlights on their hardsuits, washing the hallway in a swathe of pale light.

“SAM?” Sara called to her AI. “Any changes?”

“Negative, Pathfinder. All scans confirm there are no lifeforms on board.”

She inhaled, the sound shaking through their comms. “See? It’s just us on this rust-bucket.”

That’s when an inhuman, mechanical wail assailed their comms. The sound was so loud she heard the rattle of a blown speaker in her helmet.

“Yeah,” Scott said once the sound faded away. “Just us and whatever the fuck that is.”

“Weapons ready,” she said.

“Way ahead of you,” Reyes replied, his assault rifle cradled to his shoulder.

Sara nodded, then took point to lead them further into the ancient, abandoned vessel. They scanned each doorway, with their weapons and their omnitools, but nothing appeared out of place.

“Pathfinder,” SAM said. “Both climate control and life support are operational, however, oxygen levels are unusually low. I would advise keeping helmets on.”

“If life support is working, where’d the air go?” Scott wondered aloud.

“Something’s not right,” Reyes said.

The trio paused before a large door, its maglock engaged.

“That’s weird,” Sara said. “None of the other doors were locked.

“Maybe we should leave it that way.” Reyes’ amber eyes were dark, not with fear exactly, but it was close, and very unsettling to see.

Despite the strong sense of foreboding she felt, Sara ignored her survival instincts and directed SAM to deactivate the lock. As the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss, the Pathfinder knew she should have listened to Reyes.

It was the bridge, as they’d expected, with all the consoles and controls one would imagine. What they hadn’t expected were the bodies of a dozen crewmembers slouched in chairs, laying across consoles, and sprawled on the floor. The withered faces were alien, though they bore some resemblance to the anagara with large eyes, wide, full mouths, and skin tones that suggested vibrant hues in life.

Sara pulled up her omnitool to start scanning the deceased, and then a sharp, stabbing pain swelled behind her left eye and her vision went white.

The screeching sound from before rattled through the bridge, punctuated by very human screams. The ship felt as if it were the victim of an earthquake, rumbling and shuddering and, as the screams continued, Sara still couldn’t see.

“SAM?” Reyes shouted over the wails and screams.

“One moment, Mr. Vidal,” the AI replied. “We are under attack.”

Strong hands held her down, and the pressure felt like fire scorching her through the hardsuit. The world stilled but the screaming intensified.

It was her. She was the one screaming.

“Mr. Vidal, we require your technological skill,” the AI said a moment later. It felt like an eternity to Sara. The hands released her and the fire under her skin abated, but the shaking started again. That was her too, she realized. She was having a seizure. Should she be able to know she was having a seizure? Her mind spun out to ponder the question, momentarily escaping the bridge of the derelict ship.

Hands on her chest tore her from her reprieve. They were larger, broader, taking up more space as they struggled to hold her still. Her screams renewed, sharper than before as the fire flared back to life in her skin where those hands pushed her into the floor.

Instinctively, she reached for her biotics.

“Shit,” her brother cursed from somewhere above her. “Hurry up you guys!”

The fire raged on and the mechanical screeching hit a fever pitch. Somewhere in that time Sara’s voice broke, her throat silent despite her body’s convulsions.

And then there was silence.

The wails stopped. Her body relaxed and the fire ebbed away. Her vision returned to her and she found two pairs of eyes, one pale blue, the other warm and golden, watching her.

“SAM?” Reyes asked, his voice thin with fear. “What the hell just happened?”

“Entering the bridge alerted the ship’s AI to our presence. Due to her implant and connection to me, it assessed her as the largest threat.”

Sara groaned, and Reyes helped her sit up. She put a hand to her head, a residual ache thumping behind her eye. “So, what? Was that some sort of cyber attack?”

“Precisely,” the AI said. “It accessed your nervous system via your SAM implant.”

“Shit,” Reyes cursed. Worried eyes gazed over her face, as if he could assess the damage just by looking at her face.

“What happened to the ship’s AI?” Scott asked.

“With Mr. Vidal’s assistance I was able to bypass security protocols and successfully bug core processing. The AI is functioning, but currently restrained.”

“We should have terminated it,” Reyes growled.

“Destroying the AI would have made departing the vessel extremely difficult, Mr. Vidal. Additionally, I believe the Initiative would prefer the AI remain intact.”

“Why’s that?” Sara asked. She rubbed Reyes’ arm, trying to convince him she was all right.

“Because,” Scott said from where he crouched beside one of the corpses. “It was made by the Jardaan.”

She and Reyes both stared at her twin.

“Further genetic analysis is required,” SAM said. “However, the AI used Jardaan language and coding sequence. It is likely that Scott is correct.”

Sara snorted. “There’s something you don’t hear everyday.”

“And here I’d hoped the AI might have fried your sense of humor,” Scott said.

Reyes glared at her twin, but Sara hushed him with a hand to side of his helmet.

“Help me up?” She asked him. He nodded and did so, his hands careful and firm. “SAM, get everything you can from the terminals, and let Lexi know we have a present for her.”

“Of course, Pathfinder.”

Scott groaned. “I’m going to carry the body, aren’t I?”

Sara only nodded.

“Why do I always have to carry the bodies back to the ship?”

“Porque siempre lo mereces, pendejo.” Reyes’ voice was low, but it filtered through their comms anyway.

Sara smiled at him, but the concern never left his eyes. She sighed. “SAM?”

“Yes, Ryder?”

“Please tell Lexi that I’ll need a medical exam as well.”

Reyes nodded his approval.

“Already done, Sara.”

She growled to herself, frustrated by her AI’s compliance with Reyes’ wishes. She watched as Scott hefted one of the bodies over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, and then shrugged out of Reyes’ supportive grip.

“All right, let’s get off this boat.” The sooner they did, the sooner they could solve this particular mystery.


	31. Hunter and Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yet another MEHalloween prompt, "Halloween Gone Wrong". I love this one so much. Also, for the record, I really miss these two.

Keema promised him that everything was ready for Sara’s surprise Halloween party, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go horribly wrong. His lieutenant said it was just his controlling tendencies compensating for planning the event remotely. If it had been an event for anyone else, Reyes might have agreed.

But, this was for Sara, his Princesa. Anything less than perfection would be completely unacceptable.

As soon as they landed at the Port, Reyes dialed Keema but she didn’t answer. He scowled at his omnitool, battling the furious panic that bubbled up into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Sara asked as they stepped out of the lift and into the docks.

“Nothing,” he said. His face smoothed into a smile, his concerns hidden away behind a careful mask of carefree peace. “I just need to stop by HQ and speak with Keema.”

“Reyes,” she said. It was an opportunity, a chance for him to tell her whatever secrets he was so obviously hiding, and a warning. _Remember_ , her tone said, _don’t keep big stuff from me._

He remembered. Keeping things to himself had led to a painful and lonely year for them both. He would never make that mistake again. He pulled her in for a quick kiss to her forehead. “Just a quick chat,” he promised.

Sara watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Meet me at Tartarus when you’re done,” she said.

“Why are you going there?”

She grinned at him, and the mischief in her blue eyes pulled him up short. “I haven’t seen Kian in ages!” she didn’t wait for his reply to return to the lift and press the button for the slums. She kept her eyes on him as she waited for the door to close, her gaze bright and devious.

It set his teeth on edge, worrying that his Sarita just might have some secrets of her own.

And then she winked at him right before the door cut her off from his sight.

Something was wrong. He’d lost control and somehow Sara Ryder had taken it.

 

“What do you mean Keema isn’t available?” He didn’t bother keeping the edge from his voice. Sure, this low level agent didn’t know him as anything more than an occasional contact, but this was Kadara Port. This was his kingdom and Reyes would not be denied.

“She has stepped out for the evening, Sir,” the agent replied. She added the honorific automatically, a reaction to his tone.

He took a deep breath. “Do you know where she went?”

The young asari shook her head. “Only that she demanded not to be disturbed.”

That was a red flag. Keema might make a habit of chastising him for never making time for his personal life, but she was just as bad. In fact, she was probably worse now that he was on the Tempest full time. If she’d left orders not to be disturbed then something big was going on.

Reyes prowled Collective headquarters for a few moments, deliberating with himself about what his next move should be. But, his thoughts were interrupted by a vibration at his wrist.

 

> _To: Reyes Vidal_
> 
> _From: Sara Ryder_
> 
>  
> 
> _How’s Keema?_

 

He scowled at the message. Sara and Keema were working together, he was sure of it. Especially since he hadn’t seen a single pumpkin in HQ. He’d spent a small fortune acquiring the damn things, and the fact that there weren’t any to be found felt like a klaxon blaring.

 

> _To: Sara Ryder_
> 
> _From: Reyes Vidal_
> 
>  
> 
> _Fine. Bossy, but fine. Kian bore you to tears already?_

 

If she wanted to play this game, so be it.

 

> _To: Kian Dagher_
> 
> _From: Reyes Vidal_
> 
>  
> 
> _You have eyes on the Pathfinder?_
> 
>  

He’d see if their stories matched up. His omnitool pinged twice.

>  
> 
> _To: Reyes Vidal_
> 
> _From: Kian Dagher_
> 
>  
> 
> _She’s pouting at her omnitool, sipping a mai tai._
> 
>  
> 
> _To: Reyes Vidal_
> 
> _From: Sara Ryder_
> 
>  
> 
> _Were you almost done, or should I order another drink?_

 

He stared at her message, trying to parse her plan from the words, but everything was so generic. It was just a typical conversation on the surface, but they were both dancing around their secrets.

>  
> 
> _To: Sara Ryder_
> 
> _From: Reyes Vidal_
> 
>  
> 
> _On my way down now. Order one for me too? The usual, please._
> 
>  

He left headquarters and tried not to let his mood sour further as the lift descended. When the door opened he still expected the sulfur odor to wash over him, but it’d been years since Kadara had been plagued with the stench.

 

> _To: Reyes Vidal_
> 
> _From: Sara Ryder_
> 
>  
> 
> _Whiskey, neat. You got it babe ;)_

 

He growled. Was that… a winky face? She never used emoticons. Everything about this day rankled him, his instincts gnawed at him, screaming that something was wrong. But, it was Sara and Keema. They wouldn’t do anything he would disapprove of.

Well, not anything a stiff drink wouldn’t help him through. With a sigh Reyes resigned himself to the whims of the women in his life and opened the door to the club.

Music thundered through the building as usual, dancers writhed behind the thick metal bars, and the red light shined down in arcing, throbbing pulses. But that was the only thing normal about Tartarus.

Gauzy strips clung to rafters and air vents, looking so much like spiderwebs that Reyes had to do a double take. Water vapor rolled across the floor, pumped from some machine that hid in the shadows at the back of the bar, and clung to tables and chairs. And on each table sat a pumpkin, carefully carved in a variety of faces, lights flickering in their eyes and mouths.

He stood and gaped at the club, and the dancers and revelers, all in every imaginable costume. Pirates and vampires, sailors and C-sec officers, women in revealing cat costumes, their noses and cheeks painted with whiskers. Even the other species were in on the fun, and Reyes was pretty sure he spotted Drack standing in a corner with a horn attached to his head in bright shimmering colors.

A woman approached him, the fog clinging to her legs as she swaggered over to him. Her legs were bare, and elongated by black, ankle high stiletto boots. She wore a white button-down shirt, tucked loosely into black high-waisted shorts. Black suspenders, a glittering black masquerade mask, and an extremely high ponytail finished the ensemble.

Bright red lips smirked at him, wicked and all too alluring. Blue-green eyes roved over him as she stopped just out of his reach. “Did someone order a whiskey, neat?” She asked him. She held the glass out to him, and he took it without taking his eyes off of her.

When she moved to walk away, Reyes slammed back the whiskey and the stepped forward to grab her wrist, spinning her back to face him. “You tricked me,” he said. He was confused, frustrated that his plans had been so thoroughly usurped, and extremely impressed that she’d been able to pull it off.

Her breath hitched at his tone, but she didn’t look away. She hummed, a pleased little sound that he barely heard over the pounding bass of the music. “Don’t you know? That’s what I do.” She took a step back, as far as his grip permitted, to invite him to look her up and down.

She looked good, and she knew it. He didn’t want to play along with her game; he was the hunter, not her, and she’d turned the tables on him enough for one evening. But he couldn’t keep his eyes from trailing over her curves. “And just who do you think you are?”

Her eyes glittered as she took a sultry step closer to him. In the heels she didn’t need to stretch onto her toes to reach his ear, didn’t need to hold his bicep for balance, but she did anyway. “Can you keep a secret?”

He nodded that he could, swallowing against the moan her breath on his ear tried to pull from him.

She bit her lip and stepped back from him. “I’m the Charlatan,” she murmured.

Reyes stiffened momentarily and then he laughed. She frowned at him, her lips tugging into a pout. He pulled her back to him, more gently this time, and she acquiesced with a frustrated huff.

He kissed her, uncaring who saw or how much her lipstick smeared. His fingers moved to unbutton her shirt, and she swatted his hands away.

He laughed again, relief and the whiskey mingling into a good mood. He glanced at her and then cocked his head. “Is that my shirt?”


	32. Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another ME Halloween prompt. Get ready for some feels and a little more about Reyes' past. Hope you like it!

Sara woke slowly, blinking at the darkness, unsure of what woke her. The dark was deeper than it should be; there was no flickering blue light of the Tempest in FTL, and there was no gentle hum of the engines as they traveled through space. But there was the dim, pale light of stars.

The Casita, in Varren’s Scalp. She’d convinced Tann to give her a weekend off, the first since they’d returned from Alcaeus, and she’d wasted no time in getting to Kadara Port.

It turned out that Reyes needed the break just as badly as she did. Keema had warned her that his current work had him on edge, and that was an understatement. Sara had never seen him so visibly stressed. Usually Reyes hid away the feelings attached to his work. He liked to pretend he didn’t have any, that by slipping into the mask of the Charlatan he was able to avoid the guilt and self-loathing that some of his more morally dubious actions left behind.

He was full of shit. But if it helped him cope, she wouldn’t try and peel the mask back, not until he was ready. When he saw her walk into Tartarus his mask cracked. The cool aloof man gave way to relief, longing, and regret, but only for a moment. It’d taken two whiskeys and the promise of their long awaited reunion to get him to agree to leave the Port, but Sara knew it was the right thing to do when Kian nodded to her, guarded thanks in his eyes.

That’s why she was at the casita, and why she felt that bone-melted peace through her very core. But apparently Reyes had not found such release.

He groaned beside her and twitched, his breath quick and shallow. Sara stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. She’d never seen Reyes have a nightmare before, and though there was much about the man that was still a mystery, she knew that he was likely to defend himself against any perceived threat. If he hurt her in his disoriented panic, he would never forgive himself.

His brow furrowed, his lips pulled down in a hard frown. “No,” he whispered. “Please.”

“Reyes,” she said, careful not to touch him. “Reyes, wake up.”

He kicked a leg out and turned his face from her. A sound tore from him, like a sob. “I can’t.”

“Reyes!” she reached out, desperate to soothe him, her hand brushing his chest. It was a mistake.

He jerked, eyes snapping open and his right hand clenched her wrist. Sara went still, her instincts telling her that she needed to present as little a threat as possible. His eyes wandered the space, cataloging his surroundings until they found her face. He stared at her for a moment, and Sara waited for his memories to catch up, for him to recognize her and where they were.

He sighed and released her wrist to run both hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

She reached for him again, but he flinched at her touch.

“Don’t,” he rasped. He swallowed, trying to gain control of his voice. “Just, give me a moment, please.”

“Okay,” she whispered. She settled back into the bed and waited for his breathing to return to something like normal. A few, tense minutes went by, and then she ventured a hand out to him again. Her finger tip feathered over his shoulder, and when he didn’t pull away she scooted closer to wrap her arms around him. She pulled him to her, his back flush against her chest, but didn’t say anything, demanded nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed.

“For what?”

“Grabbing you like that.”

Sara shrugged. “I knew not to touch you, but you wouldn’t wake up, and your dream was getting worse.”

He nodded, but didn’t offer to explain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked after a long silence.

He stiffened against her, and Sara was certain he would decline to give her the details, but then he exhaled. “It’s a recurring nightmare,” he said. His voice was low, the words spoken into the pillow, but she caught them. “I haven’t had it in a long time, but these last few weeks…”

“Whatever you’re working on triggered it,” she said.

He nodded.

She wanted to ask what he was working on, but didn’t think he was inclined to tell her just yet. She didn’t want him to shut down on her, so she opted for second best. “What’s the dream about?”

Stillness. Silence. Again, she thought he wouldn’t answer her, and again he surprised her.

“It’s a memory, from my time with the Suns.”

“Obviously a bad one,” she said.

He grunted. “There aren’t many good ones from that time.” He inhaled shakily. “It was the first time I’d witnessed torture, and suffered the consequences for trying to stop it.”

Her arms tightened around him, and she whispered his name at his ear.

“I became someone else that night,” he murmured. “Whatever was left of Reyito died, and the beginnings of the Charlatan replaced him.”

“Hey.” She used her fingers on his chin to convince him to roll over and look at her. “You are Reyes Vidal, grandson, son, brother. Boyfriend, lover, best friend.”

He watched her as she said it, but his eyes were guarded. He wasn’t ready to hear it. “Smuggler, crime lord, torturer,” he spat.

“And who have you tortured lately, besides yourself?” It was a risky question, but he obviously needed to talk about it. Plus, this sounded like big stuff. Stuff he shouldn’t be keeping from her.

The fear behind his eyes told her he knew it, too. “I found our Initiative leak,” he admitted.

She raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

He looked away. “One of mine.”

“And so you…”

“I needed his information,” he said, and then sighed. “And I needed to make an example of him.”

She thought of asking if he did, but really, that was dumb. Reyes wouldn’t be so coiled and drowning in self-loathing if he hadn’t done his worst. Instead, she asked, “is he alive?”

Another surprise, Reyes nodded. “I understand his position and his motivations. He’s not forgiven, and he’ll not forget the Charlatan’s capacity for dealing out pain.”

“And mercy,” she interrupted.

He stared at her.

“You let him live, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“Then you were merciful too. If the Initiative caught someone trading secrets to the Collective, they’d be tried for treason, and most likely killed, or exiled.” She ran one hand through his hair, hoping her words wouldn’t haunt him the way they did her. They lived a risky life. “Is it done?”

He shook his head. “Almost. I’m done with him, but we’re still tracing how far up the ranks his intel went.”

“At least as far as Addison,” she said.

“Yes, but how?” His eyes got that distant look that she knew meant he was working out the puzzle.

“Reyes,” she cooed. “Not now. It’s our weekend off.” She leaned forward and kissed him. He needed to know that she wasn’t mad, that she didn’t think less of him, or fear him because of what he’d shared. She’d always known there were secrets in the man’s past, things he didn’t want to share, or simply couldn’t bring himself to. She was convinced she never would have heard this particular story if she hadn’t been present for his nightmare. She refused to punish him for revealing himself to her, piece by agonizing piece.

He returned the kiss, his mouth tentative, and a tremor rolled through him.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. Because he needed to hear it, and because it was true.

He swallowed, and nodded. “Te amo, Sarita,” he breathed. He kissed her again, and then rolled so that she lay across his chest, her head on his shoulder, and one leg crossed over his hips. Sara hummed her contentment, and soon both their breathing settled and they fell back to sleep.


End file.
